All in the Golden Afternoon
by KatsWords141
Summary: She was 20 when she started at Dharma. She thought he had saved her life because he loved her. What she didn’t expect was to be on the List, a List that would cause her to come back to the island so many years later on the Oceanic 815 flight…Ben/OC
1. September 23, 2004

**A.N. I've had this idea for a while, so I thought I'd write it, seeing as we are approaching the end of the show and things are starting to make sense. I ask you to bear with me, for this is probably gonna be a little confusing for a while. Trust me, it'll all make sense and I promise it'll be worth it. ^.^  
**

"Are you okay?"

The voice rang through her ears--ripped her from her dreams. She slowly opened her eyes, taking careful note of how heavy they were and how much they stung. She took a deep breath, but it was stopped short as pain shot through her chest.

"Easy, easy."

Her eyes fell on the man that was speaking to her. He was above her, his face covered in sweat; dark stubble lined his chin and jaw line.

"W-what--" She choked out, but her voice was quiet. Her throat ached for something to soothe its thirst. She tried to sit up, her elbows jutting out to help her rise. An electric shock shot through her arm and she hissed in pain. This man, who was kneeled beside her, placed a hand on her shoulder, urging her to stay put.

"No, you need to rest."

She blinked as he eased her back down to the ground. Her hands found the coarse sand that she was lying on and she eagerly looked around. Water lapped against a shore and trees rustled in the breeze--her eyes, however, failed her; giving her no more to look at than blurred colors.

"What's your name?" The man asked, turning to retrieve a plastic bottle of water that had been laying next to them. He easily brought it to her lips, one hand cradling beneath her chin so as not to spill any on her.

She took two sips before turning her head away; though the water was soothing, it was painful to swallow. "Alice." She lied: the thought of answering with her real name had crossed her mind as it always did, but the lying just came too fast and too easily now-a-days. "My name is Alice." Her left hand instinctively slid up to her face, searching for her glasses. Sand that had clung to her fingers scraped against her face. "Who are _you_?" Alice asked wearily, squinting at the man beside her.

"Jack Shepard." He answered. "I'm a doctor." He told her matter-of-factly. "Do you remember what happened?"

Alice sighed as the scratching in her throat subsided, allowing her to take note of a sharp numbing sensation in her right arm. It was less harrowing now that she had taken weight off of it, allowing her to choose to ignore it as she tried to recall those last moments before she had blacked out. "I-I was on a plane."

Jack nodded his head. "Oceanic 815."

"Yeah, on my way to L.A." Alice pursed her lips. "Did we crash?"

After a moment, Jack touched her arm--his silence answering her question. "I think you've broken your arm. I already set it, but you need to make sure that you keep it in the splints."

She raised her head and let her eyes travel to gaze at her arm and sure enough, there were two sticks on either side of her right forearm, bound with ripped ties. Alice tried moving her fingers. Frowning, she let her head settle back against her sandy bed. "Where are we?"

Jack hesitated a moment, sniffling as he wiped his nose with the back of his hand. "I'm not sure."

A deep pitted fear gripped her stomach, but she calmed herself--It was unnerving not to know where she was. She gave Jack a minute as he looked over her, checking to see if there was anything more he could do for her now that she was awake. "May I sit up, now?"

"You feel up for it?"

Alice rolled her eyes and then began to help herself up, but Jack leant a hand. After she was up, her head spun and unconsciously her hand went to her face once more--it felt strange to not have her glasses settled on her nose. "Did, uh," Alice started, glancing around her: she knew it would do no good, for her near-sidedness only allowed her to see things within several inches, but it was out of habit. "My glasses." She finished simply, flicking her eyes to Jack.

His expression went out of Alice's line of vision as he leaned back and reached for something near her. "These?" Jack tentatively handed her a pair of glasses; they were thick framed, with a common rectangular shape.

Alice fingered them before slipping them on over her nose. "Huh." She breathed out, blinking as her sight came back. "What luck." Alice smiled, glancing back to where Jack had found them: Her frames must have stayed on her face until the very last moment.

"Are you in any pain?"

Using her free hand, she moved her left arm onto her lap. The exposed skin had already began to bruise; there was no open wound, however. It was numb, tingling and achy--along with the rest of her body, including her head--but it wasn't agonizing. Alice frowned. "Besides a pounding headache, no."

Jack reached forward, gently touching her face with his hands. Alice assumed he was probably checking a scrape or a cut. "You probably have a concussion." Jack commented, obviously distracted.

Despite the occasional breeze, the air here was hot. The sun did not beat down upon her, and as Alice's reasoning came back to her, she gazed out of the makeshift lean-to she was in. She was on a beach. Something about the location was eerily familiar, and on impulse she shifted to get a look behind her: foliage--deep, menacing, tropical foliage. "How long was I out?" Alice asked, attempting to lock eyes with the man that still was poking and prodding at her forehead.

"A little more than a day since the crash." Jack answered, sitting back on his heels. He then handed her the bottle of water. "I'm going to go check on the others. Let me know if your arm swells or if your headache doesn't go away." He patted his thighs before rising. "And be sure to drink lots of water." He had to crouch under the lean-to, but without another word, he left down the beach.

Alice called after him with her thanks, but she knew that he hadn't heard her. He had already gotten to far before she had come to her senses. He seemed like he was busy anyway, like he had too many things on his mind: Alice promised herself that she would thank him again later. Sighing deeply, Alice took another worried glance through the lean-to and behind her at the undergrowth before whispering under her breath. "Please, for gods-sakes, don't let this be where I think it is."

* * *

**15 Years Ago**

It was near three in the morning and Ben pushed his way through the jungle back to the barracks. He was exhausted as it was, with all the recent missions that Richard had been sending him on, but walking back was by far the hardest part of his night. One hand on the shoulder-strap of his pack, Ben broke through the thick flora and into the a clearing of the Dharma Initiative barracks. He stopped for a moment to catch his breath and looked around to make sure that no one was around--if anyone found out that he was training with the Others, everything that Ben had worked for all these years, would be for nothing.  
But the empty air was cold and silent were it not for the constant chatter of frogs awaiting the impending rain; this appeased his worries. Ben shrugged his pack further onto his back and trudged toward his house. He hadn't taken more than ten steps before he jerked to a halt: A swing in the playground was occupied. He kicked himself for not seeing the figure earlier--this could mean serious consequences for him. But despite the fear that had suddenly gripped Ben, the figure on the swing was not looking at him, in fact, Ben wondered if the person had even noticed him at all.

There was no moon tonight, but the remnant illumination from one of the house flood lights stretched just enough for him to make out the deep blue work uniform. There was a part of him that warned him to get away before he was caught, but his curiosity got the better of him and he cautiously stepped closer. _What were they doing out here this late? And why hadn't they called to him?_  
The staff member was not looking at Ben, but upwards at the sky: just staring at the stars.

The snap of the twig under Bens foot was enough to give him a heart-attack: he nearly jumped out of his own skin. He sucked in a breath of air, his gaze shooting to the culprit stick beneath his foot, then to the figure that had lowered her head to stare at him. If she hadn't seen him before, she definitely saw him now.

"Hello?"

Ben swallowed, but quickly recovered. "It's way past curfew, you know." He told her confidently, striding forward towards her.

The woman smirked. "Oh, _sure_, you say that like I'm the only one breaking it." Ben stopped at the gate separating the playground from the sidewalk and stared at her. She gestured to the empty swing beside her.

Ben eyed her warily. "You don't know that I'm not security." He sneered. Ben was several feet from her, and still he could not recognize her: this bothered him, for he knew most everyone in the initiative.

The woman raised an eyebrow at him, curiously before answering. "If you were security, you'd have already reported me."

His jaw unconsciously tensed. Ben knew that he should be getting home, he didn't want to risk his father waking up and finding Ben's bedroom empty. Damn the initiative for not giving him his own house. "Why are you out here?" Ben asked, somewhat impatiently.

"I could ask you the same thing." The woman shot back, her pale hands gripping the chain swing-set as she leaned towards him.

"But I asked first." Ben was starting to recognize her now. She was one of the new initiates. He had seen her about a week ago, lining up with the other newbie's for a ceremonial picture. He tried to remember her name…

She frowned, taking a second to think it over. "I guess that's fair enough." She then gestured to the seat next to her, and did not speak until Ben finally gave in and hesitantly came forward. "I can't sleep."

"That much is obvious." Ben replied, sarcastically, as he laid his backpack by one of the support poles before taking a seat on the swing beside her. "Homesick?"

"Naw," She shook her head. "I kinda like it here." She gazed off in the direction where Ben had appeared. "I'm just more of a night owl, I guess." Her voice trailed, her mind in another place and time.

Ben studied her; she didn't have a very good poker-face. She wore her emotions on her sleeve: He knew it was a flaw that she would always carry with her. "What's your name?"

"Zoey." She answered. "Zoey Decker." Her brown eyes met his and she smiled.

"Benjamin Linus."

* * *

**Friday, 24 September 2004**

With a grunt, Alice yanked a backpack free from the pile that the other survivors had created in order to organize and find their belongings. Alice stumbled backwards with the sudden release, the fabric shoulder strap of the backpack still in her grasp. Gathering herself and taking a deep breath, Alice dropped to her knees and unzipped the front pocket. Sticking her free hand into the pouch, she cradled her broken arm against her chest: the makeshift sling that she'd made was starting to come loose.

"Any luck?"

Alice glanced over to the woman that had spoken. She was resting a few feet away; watching Alice. Alice pulled her hand from the backpack, holding a beat-up book, and with a quick glance to the unfamiliar trashy novel, she shook her head. "Nope." She placed it back in the bag that wasn't hers before moving to sit next to the woman: Alice had been searching for her backpack for over an hour, meeting someone new would be a good excuse to take a break. It also helped that Alice recognized her: they had been sitting a couple seats from each other on the plane.

"I'm Claire."

"Alice." She replied, glancing at the Australian woman's large belly. She stared as Claire rubbed it lovingly. The thoughts that followed struck a chord in her--Alice prayed that they really weren't where she thought they were…

"I'm glad you found them--your glasses, I mean." She gestured to her own face, but before Alice could ask, Claire continued. "You'd passed out and I'd just happened to come across them."

Alice didn't stop the twitch of her lips. Claire must have recalled seeing her with them on while they were on the plane. She must have placed them near Alice for her to find. "That was awful sweet of you." Alice replied, sincerely. "I really can't thank you enough." She rolled her eyes, "You have no idea how much I rely on them."

Claire nodded, swallowing, not knowing what else to say, then after a moment; "You're American." She observed with a gentle smile, her voice bringing Alice's eyes back to hers'. "What brought _you _to Sydney?" She curled a strand of blond hair behind her ear with her finger.

She knew that Claire was just trying to be nice, trying to pass the time, trying to forget the tragedy they were all in. Alice decided to play along, despite knowing that it wouldn't do anything for her own nerves. "Uhhm," Adjusting the make-shift sling on her arm, Alice allowed herself a few seconds to think it over. "I was just visiting." She told Claire simply.

Claire chewed on the inside of her cheek, shifting her weight slightly for comfort, leaning back against a suitcase half-buried in the sand. "You live in L.A.?" She squinted, shading the sun from her eyes with her hand as she glanced back to Alice.

Alice shook her head, her eyes averted to the sand under her feet. "No." She reached down and took a handful of coarse sand, letting it seep through her fingertips.

Attempting a smile, Claire watched the expression on Alice's face change as she gazed, entranced in the yellow sand. Claire decided that it was probably best not to inquire further. "I hope I wasn't interrupting anything." She commented, gesturing to the pile of luggage behind them.

"Oh, uh, no!" Alice shook her head, her eyes following Claires'. "I was just looking for my bag. Thought I'd like a book to read while we wait for rescue, ya know?" She wiped the sand from her hand on the knees of her jeans. There was a part of her that knew that rescue would never come, but she wasn't about to express that to Claire--or anyone else for that matter. Alice cleared her throat. "So, why were you headed to L.A.?"

Claire cradled her belly. "There's a family there." She paused, staring down at her unborn child. "They were going to give him a good home."

It didn't take Alice long to figure out what Claire was talking about. "Oh! Oh, I'm sorry. I had no idea--"

"Don't be." Claire interjected. "It's what's best for the baby." Her head cocked to the side, clearly thinking of the type of home that her child would have--a loving mother and father, a dog… perhaps even another brother or sister…

Alice bit her lip, worrying the dry skin. She couldn't imagine what Claire must be going through, for she herself had never been pregnant. Alice brought her gaze back down to her own hand, pale and small--It would have been nice to have kids, but being on the run all the time hindered that dream.

"Well, I better get back to finding my own stuff." Claire began after a long moment. "It was nice to meet you, Alice." Claire started to get up, but seeing her struggle, Alice quickly stood and offered Claire her only free hand.

"And you too, Claire."


	2. Useless feelings lead to Useless banter

**AN; Yay for reviews! Thank you so much, they really do help!... also, I wanted to put in that this totally isn't all cannon, and some of the timeline stuff has been changed in order to fulfill writing space and plot time, but that I am going to try and keep it as Cannon as possible… sorry, though, if it doesn't quite match up.  
Disclaimer; I regret to inform you that I own nothing but Alice/Zoey. ^.^ **

**Friday, 24 September 2004**

"A polar bear, are you sure?"

Alice pushed her way into the gathering crowd, trying to listen to what was going on. A team of survivors had come back from a hike in the interior of the island, and they were explaining what they had seen.

"Yeah, I'm sure." A man who identified himself as Sawyer stated, harshly. "I _shot _the bastard."

"A polar bear?" Alice asked skeptically, squinting at this 'Sawyer'.

He turned his head and frowned at her. "That's what I said, cupcake." Sawyer answered, annoyed.

Someone else in the crowd spoke up. "Where the _hell _did a polar bear come from?"

Dread filled her and Alice pulled back from the crowd of people, heading away from the tree line and towards the shore. She ran a shaking hand through her short hair and sighed heavily. This could not be happening.  
Deep breathing was supposed to calm her nerves, but even as she kicked off her shoes and stepped into the cool ocean water, Alice could feel her heart pounding against her chest; threatening to break loose. "No. No. No." She whipped around, the water around her feet sloshing as it lapped against her ankles. Alice's eyes traced the cliffs beyond the forest, trying to remember. But it had been too long and she had never been familiar with the land that she treaded now: there was no need, Alice was never in the 'circle of trust'--never given the code to the pylons. Even if she wanted too, Alice would not be able to find her way to the barracks without a map.

Alice closed her eyes, attempting to pacify her startled psyche: this was near too much to handle. For years she had dreamed of this moment, never actually believing that she'd be able to find her way back. If only the nightmares of this place weren't real--frighteningly real--the Island might honestly be somewhere that she would happily come back to.

The sun had started to set, and though the light was upon her, she felt no warmth from it. Alice sucked in deep breaths of cold air letting it settle into her lungs like bricks. It smelt of rain and salt and masked freedom. Slowly opening her eyes, she found them resting on the group of people that had gathered at the return of the hiking group. Now, an Iraqi man was standing on a raised slab of scrap metal, allowing him leverage to speak to the assembly. He was organizing something, but Alice had strode to far to hear exactly what he had to say.

She didn't care.

There was a polar bear dead somewhere in the jungle and she knew exactly how it got there. No matter how much she tried to convince herself otherwise, she knew that she was wrong: no tropical islands have native polar bears. That species had been brought here--the only thing she couldn't wrap her mind around was how in the hell the bear got off of the Hydra Station.

"Nice to see you up and about."

Alice's eyes shot to Jack; he had been walking along the beach, away from the fuselage. Alice attempted a smile. "All thanks to you, doc." She indicated her broken arm by pinching the sling's extra fabric next to her paled fingers.

Jack shook his head, modestly. "No, I didn't do anything." He took a second to catch his breath as he paused beside her. He held a backpack over his shoulder, most likely full of medical supplies. Alice had seen him running around all day, trying to help as many of the injured as he could.  
Jack turned to look at the crowd of people up the beach. "How come you're down here?" He asked, glancing to Alice.

Biting her lip, Alice made an executive decision not to tell him about her theories--not yet. "I, uh, just needed to get away." She feigned a laugh. "Polar bears and all. Seemed a little hard to believe, ya know?" Alice gazed at him in the dimming light; he was attractive, bright eyes and cropped hair. He was fit and quite a bit taller than her--but the sad air about him spoke of unsettled days. He had seen his fair share of the cruel side of life; that much Alice knew. And she pitied him.

He nodded, "Yeah," Jack started, "It seems surreal." He shuffled his feet, uncertain of what to say next. It was clear he hadn't planned on stopping and talking to Alice--she just happened to be in his path. "Well," he said finally, "I better get back," Jack was about to step off when he stopped. "Sayid is organizing groups to gather electronics," He gestured to the now dispersing party. "He could probably use your help."

"I'm just an biologist." Alice murmured, distracted, as Jack continued off down the beach.

* * *

**15 years ago**

"Ben!"

Benjamin glanced up when a semi-familiar voice called his name, and to his surprise saw the very woman that he'd run into last night. He blinked at her, feeling suddenly awkward as she came jogging over to where he was at. Ben's father, Roger, poked his head out of the bus they were loading so as to see what all the commotion was about--this did _not _help Ben's discomfited mood.

"Hey!" Zoey greeted, tossing him a wave and a genuine smile, coming to halt before him.

He tried to hide his confusion. "Hello." Ben didn't stop his eyes from tracing over her, for the artificial light near the playground last night had given him very little to work with. One thing was for sure though, she was much more attractive in the dark. Her hair was boyishly cropped, complimenting her oval face, leaving her cheekbones and lips to expose the truth of her gender. She was fit, but he had no doubt that she had her own set of curves; however, the dark blue uniform was unflattering on her, along with most women in the initiative. She kept it buttoned, save for the last, which exposed a grey undershirt.

Zoey placed a hand in her pocket for comfort. "Just thought I'd say hi." She told him timidly when Ben merely stared at her.

Ben gaped at her for a moment longer, something in him not understanding why she had come over to him. Then, out of mere necessity for breaking the awkward silence, he gestured to her blue uniform. "You work in the Motor Pool?"

Her eyes went down to the patch on her left shoulder, as if checking to make sure she was right. "No, uh, I'm actually over at the Hydra." She thumbed over her shoulder. "I'm working as an assistant, you know, putting dolphins on cameras--er," She quickly corrected herself, "--cameras on dolphins." A deep blush stained her white cheeks. "Nothing terribly exciting." She then suddenly regretted saying that when her eyes found the black lettering on Ben's kakki uniform beneath his name, marking him as a janitor.

Roger cocked an eyebrow as he watched the gawky conversation between his son and the newbie. Scoffing, he went back to loading the van with the boxes they were to take to the swan station. He was tempted to reproach Ben for taking time to socialize, but Roger thought better of it--maybe this girl could get chatty-kathy out of his hair for a while…

"Look, uh, I know you're busy--" Zoey started, her eyes flickering to the blue and white Volkswagen.

"DECKER!" Zoe was forced to look over her shoulder as a co-worker yelled her name and beckoned. "The boat's leaving in five!"

Zoey whipped her head back to Ben, apologetically. "Uhm," Ben continued to stare, and she couldn't help but feel awkward within it. "Lunch, sometime?" She asked, pleading with her eyes as her hand came from her pocket, palm up, gesturing to him.

"Sure." Ben answered, knowing full well that it was highly unlikely.

Regardless, her lips grew into a soft-hearted smile, and Zoey waved once more to him before jogging off to make sure that she didn't miss her shuttle for work that morning.

Ben fumbled with his own hands before turning to the boxes that still needed loading into the van. His father stepped forward to help him with a particularly large box and elbowed Ben playfully.

"I didn't know that you knew any girls." Roger teased, the corner of his mouth twitching into the witty grin that Ben had come to hate.

Ben gave him a look that could kill.

* * *

** Sunday, 26 September 2004**

"Oh, for fucks-sake!" Alice hissed as the faded blue tarp slipped from her grasp for the fifth time, sliding down the framed roof above her and back onto the sand. She felt like pitching a fit, right there. She felt like going two-year-old and sitting on the ground until her tent magically made itself. "I'm a god-dammed biologist," she murmured hatefully to herself, "Not a…not a…" Her lips pursed as she tried to remember the name for it.

"Camping-Guru?"

"Yes!" Alice faced the man that had spoken. "Exactly." She sighed, suddenly embarrassed that someone had seen her hissy-fit. "Sorry…" She shamefully glared down at her useless arm. "Its just that--"

"--I know what you mean." He interrupted, stepping towards her and bending down to take hold of the tarp. "Let me help ya." He was a large man, with long, curly brown hair and the start of a beard. His tattered clothes, though big enough to swallow _two _of Alice, were baggy even on him. "The name's Hugo."

"Alice." She answered, lending her good hand and holding a piece of the tarp in place while he bound it to one of the corner supports. "I really can't thank you enough."

A smiled touched his gentle face and he bashfully shrugged. "Hey, just helping out a fellow unlucky person."

She raised her eyebrow at that; Alice wasn't sure if Hugo was talking about before the plane crash or after…"I think we're all pretty unlucky." She told him, indifferently.

Hugo nodded, "Yeah, I guess you're right." He chuckled, tying off an end. "I'm impressed that you got this far--being gimpy and all." After it was already said, his eyes flicked to hers, unsure of whether his statement was offensive or not: It wasn't.

Alice shook her head, enjoying the momentary company, "Digging holes for the supports was pretty easy, it's knotting this on there that is difficult." Her words were augmented when she stood on her tip-toes and used her teeth to aid her fingers in tighten a tether.

They spent several minutes in silence, binding the makeshift roof and the sides, making sure that everything was going to be steady and tough. "So…" Hugo began after a moment, chewing on the inside of his cheek, "What's your story?" He flicked his gaze to hers, only long enough to catch her attention before going back to the task at hand.

"My story?" Alice clarified, glancing at him. She wiped her forehead with the back of her head; pitching a tent from scratch had proved much harder than anticipated.

"Yeah, you said you're a biologist? That must be fun," He shrugged, "or something." He stuck out his tongue in concentration as his fingers worked on a strong knot.

Alice laughed, tugging on a piece of wire that was seconding as a wonderful tie-down. "I specialize in large marine mammals." Her hand went to push her glasses further up on her nose. "Thus my complete and utter uselessness." Alice took a step back, admiring the near finished tent.

Hugo continued to look at her, he frowned apologetically when she turned her head to regard him. "Dude, there are lots of things you can do with one hand."

Alice leaned down, plucking her backpack from the golden sand and dragged it into the tent. She ignored his comment, feeling even more useless than when she'd started out. No sooner had she turned around had Hugo retrieved the two blankets and pillow that had been divvied to her. He held them out for her to take.

"Yeah, dude, if you need anything, just holler."

She nodded, catching his gaze. "Thanks," Alice replied, gladly taking the bedding from him. "And if there's anything I can do to repay the favor, let me know, okay?" There was a part of her that just wanted to hug the man for helping her, but Alice wasn't so sure that it would have been appropriate.

He waved her off. "Naw."

Hugo sauntered off down the beach, and as Alice followed him with her eyes, before deciding to retreat into her newly fashioned tent. She went abut constructing a bed with the airplane linens, endeavoring to keep as much of the abrasive sand off as possible: she was readily becoming bitter with the fact that she had sand virtually everywhere in her clothing--it was terribly itchy.  
Then, blissfully, and with an amount of enthusiasm she hadn't felt in a long time, Alice sat down on her blanket, drawing her backpack into her lap. It was amazing how good it felt to finally have a little privacy; granted, she only had three walls and no door, but Alice knew better than to complain.

The zipper to her pack was loud against the muffled voices of the community outside of her plastic walls, but it was familiar--one that allowed her much comfort and solace among the fear that constantly followed her.  
Alice found what she was looking for without much effort: It was an old beat-up copy of _"Through the Looking Glass"_ by Lewis Carroll. She cradled it against her chest, lovingly. This book was perhaps all she had left of the world she'd walked away from 12 years ago--It was the only thing _he _let her keep. Alice worried the dry skin on her lips, pushing her thick framed glasses further up on her nose before slipping her thumb under the cover and flipping to the first page. She carefully set it aside, her eyes tracing over the all too familiar words.

_"One thing was certain, that the WHITE kitten had had nothing to do with  
it:--it was the black kitten's fault entirely."_

Alice grinned: reading this story was her soul food, giving her a sense of security when times were rough.

_"For the white kitten had been having its face washed by the old cat for the last quarter of  
an hour (and bearing it pretty well, considering); so you see that it  
COULDN'T have had any hand in the mischief."_

Turning away from the page, she slipped out of the uncomfortable sling around her neck, allowing her splinted arm to rest in her lap. The pain had long subsided, leaving her with only a gentle numbing--that is, when she left it alone. Alice wiggled her fingers; they were stiff, but it was improvement none-the-less.  
The fabric she had created a sling from, once someone's American Eagle tee-shirt, slid easily away from her arm with an encouraging tug.  
It was the first time since Alice had peered at the splints before Jack had fixed her up. The splint, fashioned out of two large twigs and three neckties, was colorful compared to her pale skin. Her forearm, though no longer darkly bruised, remained tender to the touch. Biting back her fainthearted determination, Alice tested her limits with her arm--pushing and pulling--all the while wincing in pain…She had to get better soon. She just had to. This was no place to be burdened with an injury, especially while she was outside of the pylons.

Teary-eyed, her gaze found its way back to her book--her thoughts straying to the man who had caused all of this. And though she loathed him, Alice had a hard time denying that she would be happy to see him once more. Perhaps just a glimmer--or a peek at a picture….

There had been days when it had been tempting to go home, tempting to find those letters that she had mailed so long ago--for she knew that her mother would have never thrown them away--there was a picture, one among several that she'd sent home. This one, however, was taken on a particularly sunny day while on a hike around the Island…Alice closed her eyes, remembering that day with perfect clarity.

Would he still be here? She asked herself. But more importantly, would he _care _that she was here?

Were her arm not broken, it would have been enticing for Alice to run into the jungle and answer her questions herself. But perhaps things would work themselves out over time. Alice nodded to herself, laying down on the shifty ground, propping her broken arm up on her stomach.  
Yes. That's what she would do--lay low, keep to herself, and let everything play out as it should.

With enough patience, answers would come in their own time… Alice tried to recall where she had learned that from… 


	3. Hyrdra Station Brain Food

**A.N: You guys are amazing, I can't thank you enough for the kind reviews... whew, I am SO glad that Ben didn't die in the last episode "Dr. Linus", last night, omg, did anyone else just melt with the way that his character is all broken now? He needs some serious lovin......Well, anywho, here is the next installment, take note that I'm kinda gonna rush through time, but I will slow back down once we get to the good stuff (Ben...). So, totally bare with me. Thanks!**

**Disclaimer--Its not fair, but I don't own anything to do with Lost. Alice/Zoey belong to me, but that's pretty much it. **

**Sunday, 3 October 2004**

"I supposed we should get this over with." Alice unhappily commented.

Ethan proceeded to beckon Alice to sit with him. They were outside the caves, where several of the survivors had chosen to relocate from the beach--a few had elected to move back and forth to the beach camp, like Jack, but Alice had eagerly decided to make permanent residence at the caves: she had become awfully tired of the sand.  
Her arm had mostly healed, and Jack assigned her to muscle exercises every night. Normally Jack oversaw them himself, but Ethan opted to take over while Jack was away at the beach.

Alice wrinkled her eyebrows, holding her arm close to her chest: she still wore the splints and the make-shift cast. Truth be told, she didn't want to do the exercises even with Jack; they were terribly painful.

Ethan had been kind, gentle and never terribly pushy, but there was something about him that she couldn't put her finger on. Ethan was strange--odd, perhaps improbably familiar…He drew her in like a moth to a flame: It was his eyes, she was sure of it. They were foreboding and soothing to the point of unnerving. Alice felt that under his watch, she could be made to do anything by him--but not because Ethan was attractive, for he was by-far the best looking man she had seen in her days, but rather that Ethan terrified her in ways Alice was unable to explain.  
She really preferred Jack to attend to her exercises, anyway, for whatever free will she had actually felt '_free_' with Jack.  
But Alice knew that it would be futile to argue about the drills with Ethan--not just because Ethan could be rather convincing, but that she knew that she was healing and needed to make sure that the injury wouldn't leave her hand utterly useless.

With a sigh, Alice slowly came forward, taking a tentative seat next to Ethan. It was early morning, the sun had just started to rise, the warm rays sputtering through the trees--Ethan had asked her to join him early, for John and him had planned to hunt all day. Alice had agreed without thinking.  
The rock beside Ethan was still cool from the nights-shade, and the relaxing rustle of the spring easily took her mind off of what was to come.  
Alice lent Ethan her arm.

He gently took her hand in his, guiding it to the center of his shoulder, just like Jack had showed him. "Push, Alice." He commanded, quietly. The sternness in his voice screamed experience; were it not for the way he laid low in the crowds--much like Alice did herself--she would have guessed him a doctor or a veterinarian… or even a movie director.

Alice felt the strain on her wrist as she did as Ethan asked. The point of the exercise was to rebuild the muscle within her forearm--rebuild her strength and movement of her wrist and fingers. Her jaw tightened, restraining the cry from the sting in her wrist. Still, her wrist refused to bend to it's full potential, and it was a long way to go before she would be able to--but the burning sensation that ran from her fingers to her shoulder was difficult to ignore. Alice refused to lock eyes with Ethan, her gaze fixed on the spot where she was pressing into him. Ethan's own hands hovered around her wrist, his eyes flicking from her hand to her face.

"You can do more than that." He urged, quietly.

"No," Alice shook her head. "I don't think I can."

Ethan sighed, "You're healing faster than normal, Alice, so you're going to need to work a bit harder."

She tried, but mostly found herself pushing Ethan with her fingers and not her palm--as instructed--it was still not enough to budge him, however.

Alice's thoughts' trailed back to asking Jack about the recovery rate of a broken arm; he had replied that it could take anywhere from several weeks to several months…  
Both Alice and Jack had been floored when she came to him because of her lack of available movement in her fingers--he had traced where he'd set the bone, feeling with expert fingers the barely noticeable calcium knot that had formed, indicating the mostly healed fracture.

But Alice wasn't the only one in the survivor group that had experienced a quick recovery rate--and not one of them had fallen sick to any sort of disease or sickness.

Alice had heard of this islands healing properties before, but she'd never been lucky--or unlucky--enough to experience it before this.

Ethan tore her from her thoughts, his voice impatient. "I'm sorry, but this is going to hurt."

The inflection in Ethan's words frightened Alice, but before she could do anything, his hand flew out and grabbed her elbow, his other closing over Alice's own hand. He didn't give her any warning when he pulled her arm to him, driving her palm flat against his shoulder.

Alice cried out, an intense sensation ripped through her arm to her shoulder. Alice's free hand shot out and gripped the front of Ethan's shirt for support. The after-shock took a long while to recover, and panting, she gazed up at him, fire and mist in her eyes. "What the hell, Ethan?!"

"You weren't stretching to your full potential." He explained calmly and matter-of-factly. "You need to be prepared for coming events."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Alice asked, pissed. She drew her arm into her lap, scooting away from the man. She cradled her arm, rubbing it, hoping that the pain would go away sooner rather than later. "You could have given me some warning!"

"Is everything alright out here?" Charlie asked, coming from inside the caves to see what all the commotion was about.

"We're just fine, Charlie," Ethan replied, a little too-quickly. "I'm just aiding in the exercises Jack asked Alice to do."

Charlie, however, ignored Ethan, his eyes never leaving Alice--he had heard her cry out, and damned if he was going to take anyone's word but hers. "Alice…"

She glanced at Ethan: he smiled, innocently. "I'm fine, Charlie." Alice said, finally. She didn't watch as Charlie paused, unsure of whether he should walk off or not--ultimately though, trailing off back into the caves, looking over his shoulder at them as he went.  
Alice frowned at the man across the rock from her. She wasn't certain why she remained on that rock beside him: Alice reckoned it had something to do with the fact that she was slightly frightened of the man--that and a tad bit of curiosity. "You want to tell me why you pulled a Bruce Lee on me?" She asked, feigning bravery.

Ethan laughed under his breath, breaking his gaze with her to stare at his hands momentarily. He then caught her gaze in his. "'The time has come, the Walrus said, to talk of many things:'" He quoted ominously.

"What?" Alice knew very well where the quote had come from, but all the same it sent a shiver down her spine. Surely, though, he must have seen her book lying around somewhere… It couldn't mean anything.  
Her mind reeled, clicking and clattering as Ethan's face ran across her brain: Familiarity struck a heavy chord… something about that line in-particular…

Leaning forward, hands on his knees, Ethan pursed his lips. "Ms. _Liddell_, I must urge you to not play games with me." He was taunting her now.

She merely stared blankly at him--what else could she do? "Ethan…" She whispered. Then, suddenly, red flags emerged in her memory--a déjà vu of sorts-- and Alice was forced to catch her breath as it all flooded back to her. She straightened, almost wanting to flee. "Ethan… Ethan _Goodspeed_…" Why hadn't she seen it before?

He smiled. "Rom, Ethan Rom." His correction was slow, artificial. Ethan took a little pride in the fact that he had struck Alice like a dear-in-the-headlights. He hadn't expected her reaction to be any less--they hadn't seen each other for twelve years. Ethan gazed up to the sky, as if trying to tell the time. "Well, if I want to get to the beach before Locke leaves, I better get going." Ethan stood then, casually wiping the back of his pants of residue from the stone.

Alice came to her senses and reached out, stopping him. "W-w-why?" It was all she could get out; this whole situation was rather traumatizing.

Ethan bent towards her. "Because _someone _on this island cares a great deal for your well being." He whispered eloquently. He loosened her hold on him, and left her, speechless.

* * *

**Fifteen years ago**

_"Mom, _  
_I hope that you'll forgive me for leaving the way I did. It's just… well… I think that Hanso Foundations really has something going on here. They are changing the world, ma. I would be stupid to not participate in it. _  
_I'm safe on the Island… but, unfortunately, I'm not really sure where that is, and even if I did, my contract forbids me from telling you. They gave me a sedative after I boarded their sub. It is beautiful though--so tropical and warm… oh mom, it's just for a couple of years--get my career on track, isn't that what you wanted?----"_

Zoey tapped her pen against the piece of paper and sighed, heavily. Horace told her that she would be able to write as much as she wanted to, but the Sub only went out to re-supply every six months. He told her that even though she would be allowed to write to her parents, her parents would not be allowed to write back--due to security reasons, of course. Zoey didn't argue. It was probably better that her mother not be able to reply, anyway.

When the plastic tray came down on the table directly in front of her, Zoey nearly cried out.

Ben furrowed his eyebrows at her reaction before taking a seat across the table. "Jumpy, jumpy."

She placed a hand over her heart and stared wide-eyed at him. "You scared me." She clarified.

"Haven't seen you around in a while." Ben observed, taking special note of how quickly she hid what she had been writing.

"It's a three week on, three week off, shift." Zoey replied, shoving the paper into the pages of a book she had brought.

"Testy today, aren't we?" Ben smirked at her as he forked the cafeteria's potato salad into his mouth.

"No," Zoey countered, frowning. She stared at him for a long moment as he ate. "What's the change of heart? Why come over here, Ben?" Three weeks had been a long time to think over their last conversation and she had gotten the distinct impression that Ben didn't want anything to do with her.

He shrugged, glancing down at his lunch. "I dunno," He lied, "I guess I figured I owed you one," His eyes met hers, "for not ratting me out, that is." When she broke his gaze, he indicated her book. "What are you reading?"

Zoey needed a minute to contemplate their situation--It was hard to keep up with Ben. "Uh," She glanced at the spine, "'Through the Looking Glass'--"

"--Charles Dodgson." Ben finished for her.

After a momentary pause, Zoey nodded. "Yeah," she answered, "I'm impressed that you knew that."

"Common knowledge." Ben replied simply, he laid down his fork before reaching out and pulling the book to him. "A classic." He admired, easily flipping it open and tracing over it's words. He chose to ignore the folded paper stuffed between the pages.

"It's my favorite." Zoey told him, her head cocking slightly to the side. "It's kind of like of an old comfort." She watched as he looked the book over, "I've read it so many times."

"Then I take it, you've noticed that Alice is never described." Ben's gaze left the book and locked with Zoeys'.

She nodded, "Sure I've noticed," Zoey replied, "But that's what makes the story so great--you don't need a description of her to relate to what she goes through."

"Then what basis does the illustrator have for drawing her?" Ben flipped open the front cover and turned it around so that she could see the sketch of 'Alice'.

Zoey smiled at Ben, "When Dodgson wrote the story, he dedicated it to three girls," She explained, holding up three fingers. "One of them happened to be named 'Alice Pleasance Liddell'." Zoey gestured to the illustration, "Thus the source of her appearance."

Ben passed Zoey back the book, "Fair enough." He replied, going back to his food. "Aren't you hungry?" He inquired, gesturing to the empty table in front of Zoey.

She chuckled and shook her head. "You've lived here too long if you actually _like _the food they serve here." Her eyes shifted to the serving line. "I'll settle for whatever I can make at home."

He stopped eating for a moment to stare at her. "Why are you in here, then?"

As much as she wanted to, Zoey couldn't stop the blush that came to her cheeks. "Alright, I'll admit, I have grown fond of the Jello."

"That's only because you work on the Hydra Station." Ben concurred with a smirk.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He swallowed his food before answering. "That's all the scientists eat over there." He chuckled softly, "Dharma issued lime Jello."

Zoey frowned at him, the corner of her mouth twitching, threatening a smile. She tapped her head with her pen; "That's 'cause it's brain food."

* * *

**Friday, 15 October 2004**

Alice hadn't been surprised when Hugo had gathered information from all of the survivors; she willingly told him everything that could be found on her passport. Granted it was all lies, but they came so easily now, that it was almost hard to remember which parts of her own story were true, and which were not.  
She also lied when Hugo spilled to her about Ethan later that week--although, truthfully, she knew that it would happen sooner or later. She had known he hadn't been on the plane, that much was terribly obvious with his confrontation to her earlier that week.  
Alice was still having trouble, however, trying to decipher what Ethan had tried to tell her--she almost didn't want to believe it, despite the evidence against her. It was just that some part of Alice simply wanted to be liberated, to be done with all of the running and lying. Some part of Alice had hoped that the island would be her answer to that… but if _he _was still here… her troubles were just beginning.

It wasn't been long before Alice felt comfortable enough with removing the splints on her arm--somewhat to the disapproval of Jack--it happened around the same time that she had began to feel a desire to explore the jungle on her own--again, to the disapproval of Jack.  
But trekking around unattended wasn't just for pleasured sightseeing, Alice was looking for a way to confirm both her beliefs and her denials.  
The survivors had been on the island for almost a month now and if there was one thing that Alice knew for sure, it was that rescue was never going to come--Alice had decided already that she wasn't going to waste time waiting for it anyway, nor was she going to wait for the 'Others' to come for her--if that was even what Ethan implied they were intending to do…No… Alice was going to find out things for herself. Enough was enough.

Alice gathered two water bottles into her backpack along with a mango and one of the knives that Locke had distributed among them. Nobody questioned her as she did so; she preferred it that way. Though, she had met most of the survivors in both the cave and beach camps, she had avoided getting too close to any of them, fearful of the idea of being too closely watched.

When she was ready, Alice made her way into the thick trees, intent on a specific goal. The midday jungle air was humid and rather hot. It didn't take long before her clothes stuck to her, a layer of sweat coating her sun-burnt skin. It seemed that every step she took, the pack upon her back weighed heavier and heavier, as such, her breathing hastened and her thighs ached for rest. Alice refused to stop.  
The last few days, Alice had been content with merely wandering about, getting a feel for the jungle again, but today, she had decided that she was going to find something substantial--something Dharma.

Alice pushed her way into a thicket of underbrush; if she could stumble across one of the Dharma stations, it would give her a feel of exactly where on the island they were. Perhaps then Alice would be able to construct a rough map and… well, truth be told, she really hadn't thought too far ahead after that, but it sure beat waiting around catering to the illusion that they were to be rescued.

Alice pushed her way into a thicket of undergrowth; if she could stumble across one of the Dharma stations, it would give her a feel of exactly where on the island they were. Perhaps then Alice would be able to construct a rough map and… well, truth be told, she really hadn't thought too far ahead after that, but it sure beat waiting around catering to the illusion that they were to be rescued.  
Voices in the clearing ahead of Alice stopped her in her tracks. She paused, her hands out in front of her to keep the balance from sudden halt. The longer she stood there the more Alice thought she might have imagined it, but as she contemplated continuing on her path, she heard it again. The voice--definitely male--was muffled, making it next to impossible to understand. Curious, Alice slowly started towards the semi-familiar voice, careful not to disturb too much underbrush and risk being heard.

"…Three years later, that block of marble was the statue of David." It was Locke--the balding, middle-aged man that had claimed that the suitcase of knives that he'd checked on the Oceanic flight were for a 'walk-a-bout' in Australia.

Alice crouched down into the bushes to get a better view: Locke was squatting, holding a half coconut shell in his hand, talking to a younger man. She recognized him as Boone--Alice didn't know him well. She did know, however, that John and Boone had told everyone they were out 'boar hunting'. She nearly scoffed.

"We're not going to stare at this thing for four months, are we?" Boone replied, crossing his arms as he stood over John. But Locke didn't say anything, merely smiled at him. "How are we going to open it?"

John considered this. "Well, that's what we have to figure out."

Alice pushed her glasses further up her nose, trying to get a better view on what was happening--it was clear she had stumbled across something that could prove to be rather valuable. Alice scooted forward, dragging her feet slowly across the ground.

"…That's why we're sitting here." John continued, not hearing the lurking spy in the bushes beside them. "I mean, how do you open a…" He stood up from his spot on the ground and walked a few feet before kneeling on the app subject of their conversation. "…hatch that has no handle, no latch," Locke paused, running his hand along the ground. "No discernible way of opening it?" John glanced to Boone.

Boone shrugged.

The suns' rays shown through the trees, creating a sort of glint on whatever it was that Locke was standing atop of--the very object of his affection--Alice could have seen it a mile away. Feeling a lump grow in her throat, she was forced to wait until dark before John and Boone left, prior to striding out of the bushes and kneeling down to the large, horizontal, metal door.

Alice rapped her knuckles against the cold metal, then ran her fingers over the tiny glass window. Nothing happened--not like she had been expecting anything though. She frowned and sat in the damp grass, letting herself become engulfed within the nights' darkness as she needlessly stroked her left arm.  
It didn't take her long to sum up her situation, but for a while, Alice let herself bask in what was probably going to be her last few moments of reprieve.

If Alice would have known that the flight Oceanic 815 was going to strand her here, there would have been no way that anyone could have forced her on that plane.


	4. Walk Me Home

**A.N: _Of course_ a 'Zoey' comes into the picture in the last season. Please disregard that: My Zoey and their Zoey are two different Zoeys,.. Lol…^.^ … and I'm terribly sorry about the jumping into the future… but I'm trying to get the intro's over and done with, without rushing things. I know its tedious. Thanks for letting me know, and please don't feet shy about leaving criticism, it's all welcome here! Your reviews are MUCH appreciated. : ) ... now without further ado... the fourth addition to our story. Enjoy.  
**

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* * *

****Sunday, 17 October 2004**

Alice leaned wearily against a large rock, taking her time as she lowered herself to the ground, swinging her backpack around for easy access. Her breath weighed heavy on her chest and she eagerly swigged warm water from a flimsy plastic bottle.  
Alice had been wandering around the jungle for almost two days--moments after she'd stumbled across John and Boone hovering over the mysterious hatch in the middle of no where, Alice had devised her game plan. This 'hatch' was no random piece of metal in the ground--no--it was what Alice had remembered as one of the two entrances to the one of the Dharma Initiative stations. The swan; as she recalled it.  
This meant that the survivors were located on the southernmost part of the island--by Alice's calculations, of course. Using the vague concept of her memory, Alice chose to travel north, hoping by some stretch of the stars that she would eventually find herself running into the sonic fence that surrounded that barracks--the very barracks she had once called home.

With a contented sigh, Alice dug out a mango from her pack. Though admittedly excited about her little trip out in the jungle, she wonder if perhaps she should have planned it more carefully. When Alice left the caves, she had taken with her only a few bottles of water and a single mango. It was far from enough to sustain her for a several day trek, but Alice had wished to not raise suspicions about where she was off too--especially now that it had been nearly two weeks since Ethan kidnapped Claire. Alice's expedition to find something--or someone--to ease her mind, could easily be skewed to look like a collaboration with these 'Others'. It was the last thing that Alice wanted to happen; being seen as an enemy would probably end fatally.

Alice sliced a piece off from the mango and placed it into her mouth. She sucked on the sweet juice, staring down at the wondrous fruit: Truth be told, she hadn't eaten a real mango for many years before crashing on the island. She'd forgotten the mystery of eating one; the pure anticipation of each bite being of a different ripeness--sour, sweet, bitter.

Her stomach growled, taking comfort in what Alice offered. She had barely bothered with food the last few days, taking only what fruit she could find on the ground--slim pickings, as it were. But now Alice definitely felt the toll that her hunger was seizing up from her.  
Alice was unsure of how much longer she would be walking--she'd never done much hiking around the island before--for the knowledge about the geography of the island was not something she cared to study during her time here. "Regretful." Alice recalled with a sigh, her mouth full.

The foliage around her quivered.

Alice, startled, dropped her mango unconventionally into the dirt. Her gaze jerked around, one of her cheeks puffed with an uneaten mass of pale fruit.

The sound that erupted from the surrounding trees sent a chill down Alice's spine and caused her to reflexively jump to her feet--It was a screeching, whistling, rustling, bass filled cry.

Her body shook uncontrollably: she'd heard this familiar sound near the beach camp when they had crash landed here, but she hadn't feared its appearance… Presently, however, Alice was in the middle of nowhere… by herself.

Alice gracelessly made a break for the trees, her limbs flailing. She nearly choked on the half-chewed mango inside her mouth when she skidded to a stop, turning to go back for her backpack, but a black shadow easily pushed aside the vegetation and oozed into the clearing. Wide-eyed, Alice was only caught momentarily in the frightening awe of its size before she continued her panicked race for dear life.

She wasn't a fast runner, nor was she at all nimble when she tripped over a protruding root that stuck up from the ground.  
Alice spat earth from her lips, her left arm stinging as she shoved herself up from the dirt, her feet skidding in the soil, attempting to find traction. The noise from the black smoke was growing louder, and Alice knew that it was only seconds from her. A foothold finally caught and with a new found strength, Alice found herself sprinting once more. She felt the whooshing of air on her back as the mysterious black smoke brushed against her.

Her prayers were answered as a throng of bamboo trees came across her sight. Alice dove into them, whipping around, only to face the dark mass of thick smoke. The thick, yellowing bamboo sticks provided a cage-like separation between them. The monster, flashes of light barreling out of its rolling skin, traced up and down the bamboo throng. The smell of static was strong in the air.

Alice swallowed, feeling the sting of juice that had gone down the wrong pipe, but she repressed the coughing that threatened to take her eyes off of the billowing smoke. Reaching up, her fingers coated with dirt and mango juice, Alice pushed her glasses up from the bottom of her nose--they had nearly flown off her face with her tumble. She then wrapped her fingers tightly around a stick of bamboo.

The smoke eased itself back down, crying out once more in a tenor, ear-piercing rumble before swiftly dispersing away into the trees.

She waited until the bushes stopped trembling before closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the sturdy support of the bamboo. Her shoulders slumped and as the adrenaline seeped from her veins, Alice let out the shaky breaths that she'd been holding. A few stray tears escaped her eyes, the thought of nearly dying too close for comfort. Angrily wiping away the salty drops from her sweat lined face, Alice sucked in deep breaths of muggy air. They wore painfully on her chest--the hard sprint combined with the utter exhaustion and hunger caught up with her. Her knees grew weak and just as she started to settle to the ground, something in her peripheral vision caught her eye--cobalt grey contrasting significantly against the differential green of the jungle.

Blinking, Alice cautiously turned in the direction of the discrepancy. Upon further study, she noted with glee that it was none other than one of the many pylons of the sonar fence she'd been searching for.

Alice glanced cautiously around her once more to make sure that the smoke monster was indeed gone--she'd never actually seen the monster in action, but hearing about its ability to tear men limb from limb was enough to make her check twice.  
Only when she was sure that she was safe did Alice venture out of the protective throng of bamboo. Tiredly, she sauntered to the large grey pylon, careful to note the exact locations of the pylons on either side, so as to not get in-between them. Each column sported two colorless half-domes at the top, giving a reference to the direction of the sonar fence.

Warily, she reached out and touched the smooth grey metal with the tips of her fingers. Alice glanced behind her at the deep jungle from whence she came, debating whether or not to retrace her steps and retrieve her pack that she'd so inelegantly left behind… Alice was still vaguely worried as to the where-abouts of the smoke monster; besides, her stuff wasn't going anywhere and if she left to search for it, she might lose the fence.

She bit her lip, her gaze running once more over the smooth, worn metal of the pylon. Then, without so much as a second thought, Alice stepped off, following the fence through the trees.  
It didn't take her long to break through the foliage into an open meadow.

The mid-day sun shown just over the eastern mountain range, breathtakingly illuminating this particularly large, circular meadow that was cut in half by the sonic fence. The air, less muggy now that she was out of the mass of trees, still remained thick with both the idyllic and the heartbreaking history of her short years here on the island. Alice felt herself overcome with a sense of familiarity and she easily smiled, remembering fond memories.

Alice spent only a moment skimming her gaze over the empty field before angrily wiping away the already strayed tears that fell from her tired eyes. "Ben?" She called out, not knowing what to expect in return of her yelling. Birds cooed in the trees behind her, but no reply came from beyond the fence. "Hello?" Alice cried out again, this time a bit louder. Alice resisted the urge to merely run through the invisible barrier. "Is anyone there?!" She filled her lungs with air, knowing that if anyone was in the security room at the barracks, they would see her on the video monitoring "I just want to talk, Ben!" She licked her chapped lips, "Please?!" Her eyes filled with more unwanted tears, "Ben?!" Alice sniffled, her jaw clinching and quivering. Twelve years she had rehearsed what she would say to him, but this wasn't how she thought it would turn out. "Why do this?!" She cried out, "Why bring me back?!" Her voice reached new levels of octaves that were unflattering, even to her, but Alice continued screaming, pleading for someone to answer her--She shouted until her throat grew raw, until her voice was reduced to a meek whisper...

But no one ever came.

* * *

**Fifteen years ago**

The sun had long made its decent over the mountains, the clear sky fading into a depthless black studded with white flecks--like a paintbrush carelessly flicked onto a dark canvas.

Zoey held tight onto the two thin chains of the swing and stared up at the stars. Her feet, dangling mere inches off the ground, tenderly kicked at the grass underneath to give herself a gentle sway. The rusted metal of the swing-set creaked quietly with each adjustment of weight, giving the night the ease of a broken silence.  
No matter how long Zoey stared at the stars above her, they never ceased to amaze her. Zoey grew up in a small town--a fishing community--and even there, she would get up in the middle of the night just to look at the dark sky: As a child, Zoey had always wondered if her destiny was written within them--and she secretly would hope that one day she would find herself somewhere other than that small town.  
But now, sitting on the swing, staring at the bright stars, Zoey felt nothing but homesickness for that small town--It gave her comfort to know that they shared the same sky.

"You're going to be a grump tomorrow morning, you know." Ben had just crossed the fence line that separated the play area from the side-walk thoroughfare. He took a seat on the swing beside her. He was dressed in his usual attire for the night; khakis, a long sleeve, brown vest, boots and a neck scarf--all of which looked like they had seen better days.

Zoey rolled her eyes--Ben had been referring to the fact that tonight was her last night on the mainland. First thing tomorrow morning, Zoey would be catching the ferry to Hydra island for the start of her three-week shift. Truth be told, should Zoey stay up too late, she would in-fact be a grump in the morning, no matter how much she denied it. "I'm all packed, so it doesn't matter," she excused.

Ben squinted at her, trying to read her expression. "Liar." He said simply.

She didn't give him any indication as to whether he was right or not.

Ben didn't take it personally. Every night that he'd come out here--for the past three weeks--Zoey had been perched on the swing. He'd gotten rather used to speaking with her for a few minutes before leaving to meet with what Dharma termed as 'the hostiles'. She never asked Ben where he went late at night, though he knew it must have crossed her mind--and he respected her for that.

"Why _is _a raven like a writing desk?"

The question was sudden and Ben raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"I've been contemplating it." Zoey replied, methodically.

Shaking his head, Ben caught up with her thought process--yesterday, during a quick lunch, they had discussed literature and the hidden meanings of authors' intentions through their words--and of course, Lewis Carroll came into subject--obviously it was still on Zoey's mind. "There isn't an answer to that riddle, Zoey." He smiled, "It's part of the joke." He told her, matter-of-factly.

"I just wish there was an answer that would iterate that." Zoey told him with a frown. "It would save a lot of people the headaches."

Ben shrugged, thinking for a moment. "Alright, how about 'Because there is a 'B' in both, and an 'N' in neither?'"

Zoey scoffed, laughing. "You can't just _make up_ an answer."

"It works, doesn't it?" Ben countered.

She rolled her eyes and gazed off to the trees that Ben would be leaving for soon. She chuckled--these last few weeks had been therapeutic for both of them. It was going to be hard to leave tomorrow.

Ben glanced down at his watch before standing. He steadied the seat he had recently been sitting on with his hand, meticulously. Zoey made eye-contact, unknowingly giving him a sad look.  
Ben's hard expression made her shiver unconsciously. "Don't wait up for me." He told her, seriously, despite knowing that he had nothing to do with the reason she was out here. "I'll see you in a few weeks."

Zoey nodded. "Yeah, take it easy." She replied, softly, sliding her hands down the chain of the swing. Her eyes drooped a bit, and she watched him walk away from her, disappearing into the thick woods. She had the urge to follow him, to see where it was that he went, but she politely refrained. Perhaps someday he would trust her enough to tell her.

"Just a few more minutes." Zoey told herself, when that little voice inside her head told her that it was time to go to bed. She titled her head back and gazed at the stars.

**The Next Morning**

He couldn't take his mind off of her. The entire night of running plans with Richard, Ben had been unsuccessful with keeping his thoughts in one place. Perhaps it was the passion in her eyes, or the determination in her voice that haunted him--either way, she intrigued Ben.  
Ben hadn't quite known what to do when Zoey threw herself at him, practically begging for attention like a neglected puppy. Most of the Dharma folk ignored him, intimidated by Ben's intensity or prejudiced by his rank among the community--but not Zoey. She hadn't seemed phased by his unconditional staring or by the fact that he was a janitor: she had refused to pass judgment on him. He wondered if he should do the same--for perhaps she wasn't like the other Dharma folk--it was too soon to tell, but Ben was willing to give Zoey a chance.

He pushed his way through the trees, holding aside a branch for the young boy that was close behind. Ethan nodded his thanks to Ben before stepping into the clearing of the village. The night's mission had been longer than either of the boys had anticipated, and getting back late was not something that Ben appreciated--having to work early in the mornings hindered his good mood.  
Ethan had begun to go his separate way, when he paused, catching Ben's attention with his hands. Ethan raised an eyebrow and gestured to the swing set across the yard. "You really need to keep her in check." he warned--Ben knew exactly what he meant. Ethan had taken notice that Ben had been regularly meeting with Zoey, and had outright told Ben that he didn't think it was a good idea.

But Ben shot him a threatening glance anyway, before striding over to the designated play area. He glanced over his shoulder, motioning for Ethan to head home. Ethan, with a roll of his eyes, started towards his house.

Benjamin stopped at the picket fence, resting his hands on the points of the painted wood. Chewing on the inside of his cheek, he stared down at the figure sprawled in the grass underneath the gently swaying swing she'd been sitting on earlier. He thought about Zoey mentioning that her sleep cycle was all screwed up from the odd shift arrangement. But he suspected that she only used it as an excuse to wait for him to come back to the barracks for the past few weeks--however, he didn't deny that he was happy with the arrangement.

The sun had barely risen above the horizon, and it was well before anyone would be awake, but it provided just enough light for him to see Zoey better than he would in the shadow of the nighttime lamp light. He cocked his head, watching at her for a few minutes: she was lying face down in the bright green grass, her hands cradled beneath her head, her mouth slightly agape in a peaceful slumber.

This was the first time he watched her sleep.  
Then, with a sigh, Benjamin entered the surrounding gate and knelt beside Zoey. He pushed aside the swing above her, ignoring the protesting groan of the metal chains. He couldn't quite fathom how she had gotten where she was at, but he didn't he care enough to dwell on the subject. He placed his hand on her back and shook her gently. "Zoey?" He whispered, "Zoey, wake up."

She stirred, her body undulating in a stretch, eyes slowly opening, following with a yawn. Zoey caught sight of Ben and the smile the tugged at her lips moved something deep within him.

It took a moment to gather himself. "Hey," He whispered, settling on the ground beside her, his hand unconsciously lingering on her back. "'morning."

Zoey finally realized that she was in-fact outside, and she all but popped up. "Whoah." Eyes wide, she propped herself on her elbows and gazed around, disoriented.

"What are you doing out here, Zoey?" Ben asked cautiously. He withdrew his hand.

"I, uh, I was, er," Zoey, still trying to assemble her bearings, cleared her throat. "I had a crick in my neck…" She reached up and rubbed the back of her neck. "I thought I could lay down for a moment…" Her voice trailed off, something important pressing on her mind.

Ben pushed his glasses further up on his nose and watched the wheels turning in her head. Today was the start of Zoey's shift at the Hydra Station; it amused him that she hadn't yet figured that out. He knew that it would come to her eventually, but he wasn't exactly willing to volunteer the information she was seeking. He smirked.

"What day is it?" Zoey whispered, catching Ben's gaze.

The puzzled look on Zoey's face made this all worthwhile. He traced his eyes over her face--her scrunched up, bewildered expression was rather attractive on her tomboy-like face. "Monday." He answered, slyly. If only her hair was longer…

"The…"

"Fourteenth."

She had started to casually sit up--but stopped. "Oh, _shit_." Zoey reached out for Ben. "Oh, shit, not _Monday _the _fourteenth_!" Zoey placed her head in her hands and groaned.

"Please tell me you weren't lying when you said you were packed." Ben prodded.

Panic flashed across her face. "What time is it?" Ben pulled back his sleeve to look, but when he opened his mouth, Zoey had already stood. "It doesn't matter, I'm late." She straightened her clothes, "I know that I'm late." she glanced quickly around to see if anything had fallen from her pockets. "Oh god," She stated, glaring at Ben. "I am so bloody late."

Before Ben could say anything, Zoey sprinted off towards her house. He shook his head and smiled after her.

* * *

**Wednesday, 20 October 2004 **

It was discouraging walking back to the caves. Alice felt like a fool--She hadn't really known what to expect…. Perhaps an escort group bearing rifles, or perhaps an older Benjamin, arms open with love--No. No, love was too strong a word--Alice frowned; _she _didn't love him. Not after what happened so long ago.

But she hadn't expected to be completely alone.

Alice was forced to question her motives about trekking to the barracks--and to be honest, she didn't really know what to tell herself. She didn't know what to feel. Alice wished she'd never even left the safety of the camps to trail unrealistic odds that someone would waiting for her return to the barracks. _False hope…_ Maybe Ethan had lied to her, maybe he had spoken of someone else and Alice's mind had just merely jumped to the thought of Ben. It sickened her, frightened her, saddened her that part of herself had wanted to see Ben so badly…even after all he had done.

She had to fight back the tears as she pushed aside damp foliage. It was early morning, the air soggy with the nights' remnants of a drizzle. The moisture coated her lungs, every breath was like drowning. It didn't help that Alice was overheated--sweating like a stuffed pig-- and her hair stuck out in all directions, frizzy and untamed. _Oh, I'd give my left leg for a bubble bath._ Perhaps it was best to forget the events of the last few days and a soothing soak in warm water would do just that. The idea was a comforting break and she allowed herself a half-hearted smile. Alice considered what she could trade for a small bottle of shampoo when she got back to camp--it would do just the trick.

Alice had discovered a foot trail, several hours ago, one that was possibly made by the survivors--she was following it, hoping that it would lead back to either the beach or the caves. Alice had planned to sneak back in the middle of the night so as to not arise suspicion with the others, but her navigations skills left much to be desired--she'd traced back several times before stumbled on the foot-trail, and by then, the sun had already started to peer over the horizon.  
Her eyes, looking through the glasses on the end of her nose, focused on the ground. She could hear the ocean in the distance--the distinct crashing of waves against a submissive shore. Her body relaxed more and more as she hiked closer to the next best thing to civilization.

Her foot caught on something taut and Alice wobbled forward, nearly tumbling to the ground. Cursing under her breath, she regained her balance and turned to see what it was that had caused the fault in her step. Adjusting her glasses, Alice leaned down and fingered the thin string that had been draped across the dirt trail: both ends traced into the jungle on either side. Confused, she squinted, glancing around her--up, down, to each side. "'the hell?" She let the string drop from her hand as she stood. An unpleasant ambiance settled around her--she shivered: It was too quiet.

_"Over here!" _

The sudden voice surprised her, and she jerked in the direct it had come from. She recognized the voice as the Iraqi; Sayid. This frightened her, for she didn't trust the man--he was unpredictable. Alice knew that lying to him about her where-abouts would be pointless; it seemed like he could see right through anyone.

Her breath caught in her throat, her heart raced, and she debated fleeing, but before she could react, two men burst through the trees before her; each held pistols--aimed in Alice's direction.

Alice's hands sprung into the air. "Whoah! Take it easy!"

"Alice?" Jack, standing beside Sayid, lowered his weapon and sighed heavily. Jack motioned for Sayid to do the same, but he was less trusting.

"Are you alone?" Sayid asked warily, easing the handgun to the ground. His eyes scanned the jungle behind her.

She nodded, "Yeah, I think so…" Alice peered over her shoulder.

"What are you doing out here?" Jack asked, squinting at her and shaking his head. Apparently, Alice hadn't been the only one frightened for her life.

Pleading for her heart to calm, Alice frowned. "I was on a walk." She'd rehearsed her excuses many times already. "Why so edgy?" This had been the first time Alice had seen the guns--rumors had circulated through the survivors that there were firearms in possession, especially after Sawyer killed that polar bear, but Alice had never seen them.

Jack didn't answer her question. "Where the hell have you been?" His voice was lined with caution.

It caught her off guard. "What?"

"You went missing for nearly a week." Sayid answered, exasperated.

"I got lost." Alice answered quickly, feigning offended. "It's a bloody big island."

A third man broke through the trees, nearly crashing into Jack. It was Boone; he was virtually shaking with anticipation and fear, badly disguised as bravery. He looked between the others, out of breath and wide eyed. "What's going on?"

"Alice tripped the wire." Sayid answered, clearly annoyed.

Boone immediately calmed.

All three men stared at Alice, who had turned to look behind herself, at the string she had tripped on. "Jesus, was that what that was?" She brought her gaze back to the men and felt suddenly very guilty--Alice wanted to swallow her tongue. "Uh…Sorry…?" She whispered; this booby-trap seemed like a big deal to them--and she'd gone and set it off.

Boone laughed unenthusiastically. "Don't worry about it. Vincent tripped it earlier." He then suggested they head back to camp and reset the perimeter trip. He started back to the beach without hesitation.

Sayid eyed her suspiciously before striding past to fix the loose string.

Patiently, Jack walked Alice down the trail, towards camp. He waited until their feet hit familiar sand before speaking. "Want to tell me where you were?" He stuffed the gun into the back of his pants once he figured they were safe.

Alice caught his gaze. "I got lost." She was surprised Jack had allowed her back to the beach without making her answer questions first--she was relieved she wouldn't have to deal with the Iraqi. "I went for a walk and," she shrugged, "I guess I just wasn't watching where I was going, you know? One second I was just on a stroll, the next I was, like, miles off course." Alice shrugged, then stared at Jack over the rim of her glasses. "So, what was _that_, back there?"

"Well," Jack started, "we found Claire--"

"--Ohmigod, when? Is she okay?"

"A few days ago. She's _fine_." Jack answered, gesturing with his hands. He took a breath. "Ethan's threatened to kill us if we don't give her back." Alice followed him to the water basin and watched as he filled a small water bottle that had been set to the side with other empties. "We moved everyone to the beach and set up a perimeter trip."

Alice awkwardly crossed her arms. "Which I set off." She finished. _Of course, just my luck. _

"Pretty much." Jack took a swig of water and sighed: He looked like he hadn't slept in days. "How's that arm of yours?"

Alice's gaze had long wandered to the ocean. She smiled, bringing her eyes back to his'. "Better." She answered. He stepped forward, placing the water-bottle in the sand for the time being. Alice allowed him to take her arm in his hands. Jack tested her flexibility.

They were shaded by an overhanging tarp flapping in the gentle breeze that flowed from the waters edge. It was cooler here than in the jungle, surprisingly. But Alice focused on the ease in which Jack examined her wrist; his caring nature was attractive. Her eyes traced up his arms to the tattoo on his left shoulder, to the mysterious Kanji. There was more to Jack than just his compassion, a deeper, darker past hid beneath the skin….

"Alice," Jack's voice broke Alice from her thoughts, tearing her gaze back to his sleepy eyes. "just be sure to tell someone next time you decide to run off into the jungle like that again, okay?" It was clear to Alice that he trusted her--she felt bad about lying to him, but Alice didn't feel like she had a choice.

She tried to smile. "Don't worry, Jack. I think I'm in this for the long run." Her own words struck home, and she couldn't hide the sadness from her voice.

"We all are," He told her, letting her arm go and stepping back. "At least until rescue comes." He sounded sure of himself, but Alice saw through his façade.

Her frown stopped him from leaving. "You know as well as I do, Jack, that no one's coming." Alice whispered, standing her ground--She had tried not to sound ominous, but it rather came out that way.

"Then we'll have to go to _them_." Jack replied, a little harsher than intended. Obviously he'd been battling others with the same opinion, perhaps even himself. "Michael's gathering a group to build a raft. He could use your help." His tone made the statement an order, not a request. Jack snatched up his water bottle from the ground, and walked off down the beach.

Alice hated it when he did that...

She would help with the raft, but not for the reason Jack wanted her to--it would occupy her time and build up more trust within the group. For trust was probably the only thing that saved her ass today.

Alice didn't tell anyone the real reason why she was out in the jungle, nor did she wander out there again. False hope was false hope--If Ben, or anyone else for that matter, wanted her; they could come and get her.


	5. A Beautiful Lie part 1

**A.N: ****Originally I wanted this and the next chapter to be one, but since it was so long, I had to break it into two chapters, So, this is part 1 of the chapter 'a beautiful lie'--(that's why it's straying from the usual pattern). Almost done proofing part 2; it should be up in a few days! *****Long sigh* ****And okay, there's A LOT in this chapter to digest, but I promise… it's worth it… I _always _make it worth it. ; )  
**

**Monday, 20 November 1989  
**8:30am

He sucked in a breath of air as he ascended upon the banana yellow steps. This would be simple: he would knock on Zoey's door and invite her on a hike, she would accept, then Ben would begin to gradually fill her in on the plan. Ben had decided that it was about time, regardless of how he felt about her. He had come to respect that fact that Zoey was not one to snitch, nor was she one to openly question authority. She stuck out in Dharma like a sore thumb to Ben and he relished the idea of Zoey becoming rogue, like him. All it'd take for Zoey to turn would be a few carefully selected arguments, a few choice words and the right coaxing…It would be too simple.

And yet, Ben licked his lips nervously, hiding behind his calm façade. His arms hung loosely at his side, hesitating as he waited inches from the standard cream door that every house in the barracks bore.  
Though every single house here looked alike, he didn't need to check the number nailed to the siding--he knew, by heart, which was hers. There had been times during the year where he had stood, unnoticed inside of the school house, watching Zoey from afar while he was supposed to be cleaning. The memorization came easy to him and it didn't take long before he committed to heart the way she walked, the inflections in her voice, the flashes of emotions in her eyes, her favorite things, her everyday schedule… but most especially--where she lived.

If he had planned right--which he always did--Zoey would _just _be getting out of bed. This way, he could steal her away before any of her friends could commit her to do anything today. He smirked inwardly at the thought and then rapped his knuckles lightly on the door._ Oh, if they only knew…_

There wasn't an answer.

Blinking, he tried again--this time with a bit more force behind his wrist.

Still nothing.

"Huh." Ben slid back his sleeve and squinted at his watch: _He _was on time. Ben took a moment to gather his thoughts, frowning--he didn't like it when his schedule was disrupted. So, he did the next best thing; Benjamin Linus invited himself in.  
Dharma never fashioned locks into the housing units--there had never been issues with home intrusions--thus, the door to Zoey's house opened with quiet ease.

The house, dim with drawn curtains, was the exact shape of all the others': combined dinning room and living space, open kitchen, and a long hallway leading back to the two bedrooms and bathroom. It was scarcely decorated--save for a few pictures of family on the walls, a piano in the corner, a bookshelf on the far wall and a lowly couch resting beneath one of the front windows. The air was sweet--Ben breathed deeply--it smelled of Zoey.  
Politely, Ben removed his shoes, scooting them to rest neatly beside Zoey's at the door. The cheap carpet was hard under his white-socked feet as he began to wander about.

Music was playing somewhere in the house. It was low, but the walls within the house were thin--Ben guessed it was coming from the back of the house, where the bedrooms were. Ben assumed that it was Zoey's alarm clock. He didn't call out her name--but instead--curious, he started slowly down the hallway towards the music.

_"…Tell you what I got in mind, 'cause were runnin out of time…"_

The house creaked beneath his weight. He crept near her closed bedroom door.

_"…Won't you ever set me free? This waitin rounds killin me…"_

His hand barely lingered over the doorknob, his listened intently--he didn't want to barge in while she was changing--but he heard nothing beyond the 'Fine Young Cannibals'. Ben cracked open the door.

_"…She drives me crazy…" _

A large, unmoving lump lurked under the comforter on Zoey's bed; Ben would have merely thought her bed unmade were it not for the tuff of auburn hair sticking up out of the covers.  
Beside the headboard, on top of a nightstand under the far windowpane, sat a black alarm clock--it's block numbers were blinking **8:32 A.M.** as the speakers blared music.

_"…Like no one else…" _

Ben shuffled through the door and around Zoey's bed to the nightstand. The bump didn't budge, not even an inch.

_"…She drives me crazy…and I can't help myself--"_

His hand shot out and flipped the 'off' switch to the alarm. It amazed Ben, the lengths Dharma had gone to make its employees feel at home--even going so far as including a single radio station broadcasted from a highpoint on the island.

Zoey stirred with the sudden silence, but only slightly, adjusting herself further under the comforter.

"Pssst…" Ben kneeled beside the bed, his eyes skimming the blankets up and down. "Psst."

A small groan came from her, followed by another slow shifting of fabric.

"You awake?" He whispered.

Her reply was sharp, muffled by the thick quilt. "No. Go away."

"Zoey…" He prodded. Over his glasses, Ben stared at the spot where her face would be.

"What are you _doing_, Ben?" Zoey huffed, finally, jerking the covers from her head. Her hair was sticking out in all directions. She rubbed her eyes and squinted tiredly at him.

"I want you to come with me." Ben answered, his hands on his knees. His eyes traced over her face--pale and oval, defined cheekbones, chocolate eyes, supple lips. He swallowed, his attention-to-detail broken as she turned away from him.

Zoey closed her eyes and groaned disapprovingly. "I just got back from Hydra--"

"--I know--"

"--I wanna sleep." Zoey protested, bringing the covers back over her head.

Ben rolled his eyes, shifting before taking a handful of the blanket in his fingers and pulling them back just enough to get her attention. "It's a _beautiful _day."

"Ugh, isn't like, Monday, don't you have to work or something?" Zoey asked, snatching the blanket from him and sneering.

"Sunday, actually." Ben answered, his eyebrow rising the smallest of a fraction.

Silence passed between them--seemingly minutes while Ben waited for her to give in. He wasn't going anywhere until she agreed to accompany him: and she knew it.

Zoey groaned again, throwing her head back against the pillow. "_Fine_!"

"Good." Ben replied, simply, the tiniest hint of a victory smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He stood, patting the edge of the mattress. "I'll give you a few minutes."

She followed him with her squinted gaze as she yawned, stretching her arms above her and pressing them against the headboard. "Ben?" His footsteps stopped in the hallway, momentarily. "Don't you ever knock, by-the-way?" Zoey asked him with a trace of a smile.

"Why, so you could sleep through that too?" Ben called from the kitchen.

"Hardy-har-har."

* * *

Zoey was still yawning while they made they way down to the perimeter. "So, where did you say we were going?" She asked. They had broken through the trees and were stopped at the sonic fence. She wasn't so sure that they were supposed to be down here, but she trusted that Ben knew what he was doing--to a point, anyway.

"I didn't." Ben replied, effortlessly locating a control box on one of the pylons. He kneeled next to the dark green lid, and taking out a scrap of paper from his pocket, Ben punched in the numbers that were scrawled across the crisp piece.

Her eyebrows furrowed and Zoey stepped forward, uncertain. "Wait, uh, I don't think we're allowed--"

The lid opened without a fight, revealing a large black dial. Two small light bulbs were positioned above the dial, the lit one a bright red. Ben seemingly ignored her as he turned the dial until the red bulb flicked to green.

"How do _you _have the code for that?" Zoey asked, confused. "It's changed daily."

Ben calmly reached in his shoulder bag, glancing back at her. "I'm a janitor, remember?" He answered simply--as if that would be sufficient enough. Ben then pulled out a white rabbit by the scruff, scratching it on the ears before ushering it through the to the other side of the pylon. He waited until the bunny was clear of the fence before standing--this was routine for Ben; he never approached the fence without testing it first. Turning to Zoey, he gestured for her to follow him through. She merely stared at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh hell no." She replied laughing.

"_Trust me_, it's okay." Ben requested, waving for her to move.

"Nuh uh." She shook her head. "I remember the orientation video on that thing." Her hand went up, apologetically. "There's no way--"

Ben, with a roll of his eyes, closed the space between them and snatched her hand. In one fluid motion, he pulled her through to the other side. Zoey, taken off guard, squealed as she passed through the barrier, squeezing her eyes shut in anticipation.

When she opened them, however, she was surprised to find herself in one piece and not writhing on the grass. She uneasily patted herself down.

"When you're done," Ben started, kneeling beside another box. "you mind grabbing him for me?" He nodded to the bunny that was happily chomping on a blade of grass near them.

Zoey couldn't help but remember the consequences for disobeying security protocols--a touch of excitement trickled into her blood; they were breaking the rules--and to her surprise, it was utterly satisfying.

Swallowing, Zoey strode over to the bunny, and leaned down to scoop him up. "Is this what you do every night?" She asked, enjoying the soft fur off the white rabbit. She took notice of the black 'four' that was dyed onto it's back. Zoey knew that it was one of the laboratory bunnies, and she made a note to ask Ben about it later.

Ben, closing the dark green lid of the box that was mounted on the pylon, rose to met her gaze. "Yes." He came forward, offering to take the rabbit from her.

She had always suspected of such. "What do you do out here?" Zoey inquired.

"Patience." He told her, gently stuffing the rabbit back into his bag.

*****10:30am**

"We'll rest here."

"How much further?" Zoey asked, running a hand through her hair, ruffling it. She glanced to Ben for guidance; they were at the top of a rise overlooking a meadow to the west of the island.

Ben settled himself on the sun-warmed grass. "Another hour or so." He replied, in his usual non-committal tone.

She nodded, taking a seat next to him and allowing herself to catch her breath. Zoey half-heartedly smiled to Ben, who had already started to free the bunny from the confines of his shoulder-bag. Ben looked wholly adorable holding a rabbit in an embrace. She drew her knees in and rested her arms on them; Zoey couldn't understand why other Dharma folk didn't take to Ben--he was gentle, witty, hardworking, determined and though selectively charming, he was charming all the same.

Ben caught her stare and held out the bunny for her to take. "Do you realize that in a week, you'll have completed one-third of your contract here?" There was a tinge in his voice that was anything but congratulatory.

Zoey held the soft creature close, burying her nose in its fur. "Yeah." She mumbled, avoiding his gaze. Zoey had been counting down the days until she was able to go home--she didn't tell Ben this, she didn't want to hurt him. It had taken Zoey a long time to tell Ben about her mother and why she had left--and why she so badly wanted to go home. She had hoped that Ben wouldn't bring up anymore of the subject; it was too touchy.

Reaching into an outer pocket of his pack, Ben pulled out a prepackaged jello packet that he'd nabbed from the kitchen earlier. He shrugged, placing it on the grass between them. "Happy One-Year."

A grin snaked across her lips. "A picnic?" She asked hopefully, "Is this why you brought me all the way out here?"

He let a chuckle escape him. "No." He shifted, reaching out to stroke the rabbit's ears. "No, I just thought it was about time you knew what I come out here for every night." His eyes caught hers over the rounded rim of his glasses, and gestured to the packet between them. "I believe it's termed an icebreaker."

"Oh, Benjamin." Zoey sighed, "Since when do you feel awkward around me?" She tried to juggle the rabbit in one arm as she reached for the water bottle she'd brought with her. "And you know I'm not terribly jumping at the bit to find out what dirty little secrets you're hiding out here." Zoey joked with a wink, twisting off the cap to the bottle and bringing it to her lips.

He desperately tried to ignore how delightful his named sounded upon her tongue, then struggled to keep focus when Zoey clumsily spilled water on herself. His eyes respectfully averted to the grass near his feet.

Zoey laughed quietly to herself, "Leave it to me," she whispered, embarrassed, as she attempted to brush water from her collar. The bunny squirmed; reluctant to become wet.

"Yes, well," Ben replied, trying to distract himself with a handful of grass. "I thought it only fair."

Blinking, Zoey wasn't exactly sure what had flashed across Ben's face, but she knew better than to linger. "Well, pop that baby open." She began, after a quiet minute or so.

His eyes quickly found hers. "Excuse me?"

"The jello, silly." Zoey answered, "We can share it, then get a move on." It would also lessen the mood between them; Zoey would have had to be blind not to notice that there was something off about Benjamin today.

Ben proceeded to rummage through an outside pocket on his bag. Truth be told, he never really liked it when Zoey playfully referred to him as 'silly'--it made him feel childish--and the last thing he wanted Zoey to think of him as was childish.  
Chewing gently on his bottom lip, his drew out a single spoon. "I'm afraid I only brought one." He hadn't expected her to want to share. He scratched his head, reflexively smoothing his hair back down.

Zoey rolled her eyes, stroking the bunny lovingly. "I don't have cooties, Ben." she laughed.

"Of course not." Ben replied, quickly. He took the small cup of jello in his hands and easily peeled off the lid. He had begun to offer it to Zoey when he realized that she had her hands full with the bunny. Zoey shrugged, noticing his uncertainty, but before she could offer a solution, Ben scooped a small portion out onto the spoon. A cupped hand under the plastic utensil, Ben brought it to her lips. She had to suppress a giggle as she allowed him to feed her--she hadn't been fed like that since she was little.

Smiling at her, Ben effortlessly withdrew the spoon. He liked the way she blushed, the way she averted her eyes to the rabbit in her arms--he'd caught her off guard.  
He took a bite of the infernal stuff, himself. Then offered her another. However, this time, he took special note of how her smiling lips engulfed the spoon, the faint sound of her teeth clicking on the plastic, the naivety in her eyes when they locked with his.

A year's worth of pent-up emotion seized hold of him. No sooner had the utensil left her, had Ben rushed forward, crashing his lips against hers. A hand, newly free, snaked to the back of her neck, pulling her to him. The kiss was crushing and hard, and Ben could feel her teeth through his lips, but it wasn't going to stop him from expressing all this yearning desire that he felt for her. He knew she felt the same--she _had _to.

It didn't take him long to realize that she wasn't kissing him back. "Ben," she whispered around his mouth. He could feel her warm breath on his cheek. "Owe…"

Slowly, Ben released her, pulling back to trail his eyes to hers. He desperately looking for something--a deep emotional response--but Zoey merely stifled a chuckle, bringing her hand up between them to cover her mouth.

Offended, he sat back on the grass. Perhaps he had made a mistake in bringing her out here, perhaps he'd read her wrong, perhaps she really wasn't ready for what was to come... Ben couldn't look at her, a knot forming in the back of his throat. "I--I'm sorry." He choked out.

Zoey let out a long sigh, "Take the bunny, Ben." She demanded. When he didn't move fast enough, she all but shoved the poor animal into Ben's arms. He continued to avert his eyes, silently apologizing as he stared down at the fluffy, white creature.

He heard her shifting on the grass beside him, moving the objects that sat between them. He felt her scoot close to him, but still the thought of looking at her pained him; Ben had left himself vulnerable to her for merely a second and she'd _chuckled _at it.

Zoey frowned, placing her hand on Ben's cheek, forcing him to look at her. "Hey," She whispered, mischievously. He sadly gazed at her, like a child waiting for a scolding. Zoey shook her head, tenderly. "Gently." Zoey instructed under her breath, leaning in to place a sweet, chaste kiss on his lips. A foreign electrical shock passed between them, causing them both to suck in quick breath of surprised air. Ben, his eyes closed, pushing forward, trying to kiss her again as she pulled back, but Zoey's hands--now on either side of his face--stopped him. "_Gently_." She repeated, this time a bit more firmly. There was a part of her that knew that Ben would get his way--as he usually did--but Zoey was at least determined to voice her pretense.

She kissed him again. Ben could taste the sugary jello on her, smell the odd peppermint of the Dharma shampoo, and feel the fervor of her kiss masked behind modesty. He smiled into her, basking in the moment. He always _did _like it when he plans turned out as smoothly as this one.

**Friday, 19 November 2004**

_"The Others are coming." _

That was what the French woman--Rousseau--had said two weeks ago. It had scared everyone shitless, everyone except Alice. No, Alice had sat back and watched as Jack, Hurley, John, Kate and Artz decided to blow open the hatch on the Swan station; they planned to hide everyone inside--away from the Others…But the Others never came.

The homemade raft--that she'd helped make; like Jack had so nicely asked her to do--had set sail to nowhere, days before. Though Alice had remained skeptical, she knew that none of the survivors would hear it. So opinions were utterly kept to herself--opinions like; If migrating fish couldn't find their way out of the magnetic current that the island seemed to emit, what chance did four men, with no bearing, stand?

Every move that the survivors seemed to make, got them no where. They wasted time, planning for rescue--even running out of food at one point. To Alice, they had merely _lucked _out with the 'hatch'.  
It had been difficult not to go to Jack about what could be done about several of the problems they faced--but the idea of her condemnation was enough to keep her at bay: Alice would rather starve like everyone else rather than be tortured into a confession about her past.

Alice glanced up at Hurley, who was busy trying not to retch as she prepared a boar that had been shot earlier. Hurley had kindly agreed to keep her company, despite his repugnance towards blood. She grinned at his innocence before wiping the hair out of her eyes with a bloody forearm. "Spring rolls, Burt Reynolds movies, down pillows, and Dr. Pepper." She answered exasperated.

"Burt Reynolds?" Hurley asked with raised eyebrow. "Really?"

"Hey," Alice shrugged, maneuvering the knife in her hands underneath the boars skin. "What can I say? I'm an old soul." The slurping of the knife slicing through wet tissue didn't bother her--unlike most of the suburban survivors who couldn't stand butchering an animal. Even most of the hunting party couldn't handle it--save for Locke, of course. Normally Locke oversaw the butchering, but at the moment he was at the hatch, where he and two others had locked themselves away for days now.

Pursing his lips, Hurley tried not to focus on the amount of blood that came from the carcass. "I wouldn't pick him."

Alice laughed, her arms deep into the pig. "Okay then, Mr. Reyes, what do _you _miss most?" She knew that conversation was a good way to keep the boy from fainting: she needed him to help her haul the beast back to the make-shift kitchen up the beach when she was finished.

He cleared his throat before answering. "Kung-fu movies, fried chicken, driving, Star Wars, and legit plumbing."

Alice nodded, considering his answer. "Jackie Chan fan, huh?" She asked, curiously.

"Dude, Jackie Chan totally wasn't--" Hurley started, but then shied away when Alice nonchalantly peeled away the pigs' skin from the meat beneath. "Oh, god," He shielded his eyes. "That's disgusting."

She tried to refrain from chuckling. "It's really not so bad, Hurley. You've cleaned fish before--"

"--Yeah, dude, but fish don't bleed or make slosh noises."

"Yes they do--" Alice argued.

"--Not like _that_, man!"

He was such a girl. Alice sniffled, her back aching from the constant bent-over position she was in. "Well, I'm almost done," She conferred, "Help me lift it?" She scooted back from the newly skinned boar and cleaned her hands on a rag. She stretched her back, listening to it pop, as she wiped her hands clean of the sticky blood.

Hurley nodded, keeping his eyes from reaching the bloody mass. He waited until Alice leaned back over the pig, tying the feet together with a thick rope, before aiding her in hanging the easily 60lb boar to bleed out.

"So," Alice began, pulling hard on the rope; it was linked around several trees, providing leverage. "Have you heard anything from Jack and them?"

Hurley struggled to hold the rope taut while Alice tied it off. "Nu-uh, why?" The boar swayed gently above ground, blood steadily dripping from its dark brown snout to the stained grass below.

She shrugged, brushing her hands off on her pants. Alice was covered in blood, skin, hair and entrails--the thought of bathing thrilled her. "I thought I'd take 'em some meat later, if they didn't show tonight."

"I dunno, dude," Hurley replied, fidgety.

Blinking, Alice stared at him, brushing her hair from her face again. A streak of bright red pigs' blood smudged on her forehead. "What do you mean?"

He shrugged, "I dunno, last I saw Jack, he was like, all secretive and stuff." Hugo toyed with his shirt, moderately concerned about having blood on him.

Furrowing her eyebrows, Alice considered this. "Huh." Then, taking in a deep breath of reeking air, she considered her next move. Her curiosity kicked up; What could Jack, Sayid and John be hiding down there? Whatever it was, it would explain why the trio had locked themselves away for the last couple of days.  
Hurley discretely gestured to his forehead and then to her, tearing Alice from her thoughts. "What?"

"You, uh, have blood…"

Alice casually laughed, waving him off. "Yeah, I know. I've got it all over me." It was obvious, however, to Hurley that she had no idea that her forehead and cheeks were streaked with dark blood.

* * *

"Special delivery!" Alice cheerfully called as she weaved herself through the mini-maze of airlocks into the swan station. It had taken several hours for the hog to fully cook, but once it had finished, Alice had made sandwiches for Jack, Sayid and John--who'd missed out on the festivities of Rose's birthday.

They must not have heard her, for when she rounded the concrete corner into the main kitchen area--the fresh boar sandwiches in her backpack--no one came to greet her.

Frowning, Alice made her way to the center island in the kitchen and slid the backpack from her shoulders. "Hello?" She called again, leaving her pack on the counter and taking a few steps around. This was only her second time in the Hatch station--she found it fascinating how well decorated it was compared to the other stations: bright walls, simulated sunlight, many bookshelves, couches, rugs, tables…

Alice stopped, squinting curiously: the door to the armory was wide open. Inside, empty weapon shelves and a cot with a freshly disheveled bedspread, told the tell tale signs of occupancy. She stepped closer, resting a hand on the metal door frame. "How odd." There were couches and beds down in this station--and Alice knew that no one in their right mind would set up camp in the unaccommodating armory… unless someone was forced to stay there: as it would make a _very _efficient holding cell.

"What are you doing down here?" A voice suddenly inquired.

Alice whipped around, momentarily startled; but it was only Locke, coming from around the corner where the 'button' was located. She gestured to her pack with a simple smile. "Anderson shot a boar, and I thought I'd bring some fresh sandwiches."

There was a look on Locke's face that Alice didn't trust. He had stepped forward, drawing her away from the Armory. He then proceeded to lead her back to the kitchen, a steady hand on her back. "That was sweet of you, Alice, thank you."

"John," Alice knew something was wrong. "what's--is there--?" She gestured to the armory, trying to get her point across.

"Nope." He answered a little too quickly.

"No, I saw that--the cot…"

Locke was quickly ushering her back to the airlock. "It's going to be dark soon, you'll want to be heading back."

Alice brushed his hand away, planting her feet into the ground. "No." She told him firmly. "_What _is _going _on?"

"What makes you think something is 'going on'?" He asked innocently.

Shaking her head, Alice stared him down. "Did you catch one of them?" She asked, under her breath. It was the first thing that came to mind, and she spoke without thinking--it was just that everyone had been so uptight about the Others', at least until the hatch was blown open, then everyone seemingly went back to normal.

Locke rubbed his nose, breaking her gaze. He sighed heavily and waited a few painstaking moments before turning, "Jack," He called, "she knows."

Alice blinked, "What--?" She was cut short as Jack and Sayid came from the corner where Locke had previously been--they must have hidden back there upon hearing Alice--beside Jack, however, a shorter man with a bruised, cut face and torn clothes treaded slowly with him. The mans' wayward glance connected almost immediately with Alice's.

Her breath caught in her throat, but not a single speck of recognition shot through his eyes or expression. Jack and Locke exchanged a few words, but Alice heard none of it. She was held captive in the new man's gaze. Was this what the Russian lady had meant by 'The Others are coming'?

Sayid caught the look on Alice's face. "Something wrong?" He asked, suspiciously.

Alice licked her lips, nervously. She broke the man's stare to glance between the survivors. "No, I just… didn't think you _actually _had someone down here." Her reply was truthful as she tried to hide the trepidation that showered down over her head.

Jack turned to the 'prisoner'. "Henry, this is Alice. Alice?" He gestured. "Henry." Jack had spoken so casually, as if this man and him had gotten to know each other a bit--leading Alice to believe that 'Henry' been down here for a while.

Alice nodded to Henry, non-committally.

Locke placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. "You look like you've just seen a ghost." He paused. "Do you recognize him?"

She shook her head. "No." Alice lied, swallowing. Then, after a moment of awkward silence as Alice tried to gather her bearings, she cleared her throat. "Sandwich anyone?"


	6. A Beautiful Lie part 2

**A.N: Part two of 'A beautiful lie'. Be sure to let me know what you think! Enjoy!! **

**Sunday, 19 November 1989**  
11:54

The overhanging of foliage was thick, blocking the afternoons light to leave a deep umbrella of green tint. Zoey followed closely behind Ben, taking great care to not trip on any of the roots that seemed to randomly jut from the ground. The old game trail was narrow, though looked as it had been used recently.

When Ben abruptly stopped, Zoey nearly ran into him. He had slowly raised his arm, intending to block her from continuing. His eyes scanned the trees in front of them.

Zoey peered over his shoulder. "Something wrong?" She whispered.

"It's okay," He called loudly into the jungle. "She's with _me_."

Whispers erupted around them, coming from all sides, and even though Ben knew what it was, the murmurs still sent shivers down his spine. Though the many voices were incomprehensible, they sounded gossipy, haunted and curious--not at all what you'd want to hear while alone and unarmed in the forest.

With a start, Zoey pressed herself closer to Ben, taking a handful of his shirt in her fingers--like a child fearful in a crowded room. "Omigod, Ben…" Zoey had heard about the 'voices' in the deep woods; she knew that nothing good came from them.

Quickly glancing over his shoulder at Zoey, he tried to ignore her puerile whimper. "Richard? Is that you?" He asked, squinting through his glasses at the head of path.

A man, perhaps in his mid-thirties, pushed his way onto the path: the voices immediately halted with his appearance. He didn't seem dangerous per say--with his dark hair, dark eyes, stubble and shabby clothing--but mysterious. He bore no weapon and yet walked proudly up to them, as if undaunted by anything that could pose a threat. The man glanced from Ben to Zoey, then back to Ben again; a bemused aspect in his cold eyes. "You mind my asking what she's doing here?" He asked Ben: His voice was kind, but a permanent hint of edge weaved through his words.

Zoey swallowed nervously. The man _definitely _did not look like he was from Dharma.

"Richard," Ben started, courtly. "This is Zoey Decker." He half-turned to her. "Zoey, meet Richard Alpert."

She could feel her heart threatening to beat out of her chest. "Hi…" Zoey whispered timidly, taking Ben's arm in her hands, her eyes never leaving Richards' entrancing gaze.

Richard returned her wary stare, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"We need to talk, Richard." Ben declared.

"Evidently." Richard replied, wittily. He hesitated in backtracking the trail, and held out a hand, palm up. "Are you sure about this, Benjamin?" His eyes spoke more than his words ever would, and Zoey knew that she would not be welcome in his presence.

Benjamin tested the older man with his gaze. "Aren't I always?"

She watched as the two men exchanged challenging stares, and she tightened her hold on Ben's shirt. Zoey really didn't like what was appearing to go down. Could this really mean that Ben had been conferring with the hostiles?

"Charles isn't going to like this." Richard sighed.

"Well, you know my opinion on that." Benjamin quietly shot back as Richard started back down the trail from where he'd come from. Ben stepped off after him, the thick moss crunching under his feet, but Zoey scrambled to snatch his arm. With an inquiring raised eyebrow, he turned to her.

"I dunno about this." Zoey whispered, anxiously. She was okay with breaking the rules up to this point, but being expected to trust a hostile…

He considered her words. "You don't have to come." Ben told her seriously.

His reaction wasn't something that Zoey expected. She waited for him to make some witty comment to follow, but as long seconds passed between them, Zoey grew increasingly uncomfortable with his silence. "So, I can leave, just like that?" She asked him, skeptically.

Ben nodded, a hint of a smile touching his lips. "I don't see why not." He shrugged.

Swallowing, Zoey blinked. "Will you come with me?"

"No." Ben answered, simply. "I _still _need to speak with Richard."

She slowly released his arm. "I need the code to the fence, then." Zoey hadn't entirely decided yet whether or not she was actually going to head back to the barracks.

Ben shook his head, taking in a sharp breath of air. "I'm afraid I can't do that." He told her, innocently. Zoey opened her mouth to retort, but Ben beat her to the punch. "Besides, even if I could," He glanced at his watch, "security is pretty tight for the next eight hours." Ben then offered her the most sympathetic look he could muster. "Steen and Carver are on duty…" He trailed off, knowing Zoey was well aware that the security team wouldn't take kindly to her 'breaking back in'.

Biting her lip, Zoey considered this. It left her with not other option. She sighed, frustrated with her lack of selection. Ben and his father would surely be voted off the island if Horace found out about this.

"They're not what you think." Ben replied, calmly. He had expected this--for her to lose her cool a bit. "They're the good guys."

Zoey shook her head. "You've been collaborating with them." It wasn't so much of a question as it was an assertion.

He blinked at her; his eyebrow rose a small fraction of an inch--no more. "Don't pretend you're surprised. It makes you sound dense." Ben shifted, standing his ground as his eyes bore into hers: his disposition no different than it ever was--assertive and bored… even as he more or less confessed to illegally working with the hostiles, Ben showed no regret in his façade.

Taking offense to his comment, Zoey took a step away from him. She was torn between the idea of running away and the idea of trusting Ben--Either way, she figured there was an equal amount of consequences and rewards. "Damn it, Ben." Zoey whispered, closing her eyes momentarily; she was starting to get a headache from all of the indecisiveness.

"I wont let them hurt you."

Zoey opened her eyes, resting her gaze within his. She wasn't sure who he was trying to convince, but the tone of his voice was lined with such sincerity. Zoey almost wanted to laugh--truthfully, she wasn't afraid of getting hurt, she was more worried about being fired. Although, Ben _had _gone this long without managing to get caught…  
She slowly shook her head and sighed. Taking those few steps that laid between them, Zoey wove her fingers into his hand: making her final decision. "I'm going to hold you to that, Benjamin Linus." She whispered.

* * *

"I'm afraid I don't really understand," Richard confessed, walking to the end of the tent where Ben was standing. Richard had led the two onward to one of the beach camps and had stood back as Ben had introduced Zoey into the Others as if she was an old friend. Richard had even held Charles Widmore at bay, willing to listen to Benjamin's reasoning behind bringing a complete stranger to their hideout.

Benjamin Linus was leaning on a support pole of Richard's tent, watching as Zoey interacted quietly with a handful of Others around a campfire; she was tense and wary, but slowly grasping that the people here were not as antagonistic as Dharma led everyone to believe. Ben nearly smiled at the brief memory of peeling her off of his arm to sit with the Others.  
He stifled a yawn. "Not much to understand, Richard." Ben answered, his stare fixed on Zoey, who seemed to be sucking in everything like a sponge--Ben knew that she would, he knew that it would just take a bit of encouragement to gain her interest in the Others.

"You're _sure _we can trust her?" Richard asked once more. He knew that he was beginning to sound like a broken record, but the wellbeing of this camp was Richards' first priority.

"You didn't seem to have this big of a problem with Ethan." Ben retorted, letting his eyes flicker to the dark haired man that had come to stand beside him.

"Yes, but Ethan didn't pose the threat of distraction."

Benjamin resented Richard's comment. He pursed his lips, narrowing his eyes. "What are you saying?"

Richard scoffed. "Exactly what it sounds like, Ben." He replied, trying to keep his voice down. The last thing he wanted was for this conversation to go outside of the two of them. "Bringing her here was a bad idea."

Ben turned to him--Ben was tired of these run-around games. "Let me make myself perfectly clear, Richard." His tone low and menacing. "If she doesn't fall under my safety net," he warned, his words rehearsed--for weeks he'd been practicing this speech. "I'm going to halt the weekly consignment of weapons and gas canisters."

Richard's hand went out, defensively. "You'll need to take it up with Widmore--"

"Like I said before;" Ben sneered, turning to look back out at Zoey. "I don't follow under Charles' orders and for that matter," Benjamin raised an accusing eyebrow. "I didn't think you did either." Zoey was listening intently to an Other named Isabel--though psychosomatically stern, she possessed a motherly instinct and was the only one Ben trusted with baby Alex. Isabel was bouncing the child on her knee as she spoke to Zoey. "This purge won't happen without Zoey."

"And what happens if she doesn't approve of what you're doing?" He asked curiously. "What if she refuses?" He followed Ben's gaze, watching as Isabel passed baby Alex to Zoey. He watched as Zoey cooed and held the child up, smiling and creating comical expressions for Alex's benefit.

"She wont."

**Friday, 19 November 2004**

"You can't keep him locked up like this, Jack." Alice told him, after 'Henry' had been placed back in the Armory.

Jack rubbed his nose. "We don't know that he's not once of 'them'." They had moved to the Dining area, but he still kept his voice low, weary of Henry overhearing their discussion.

"We don't know that his _is_!" Alice countered, throwing up her hands. "He could be just an innocent bystander." She turned to Sayid, accusingly. "Did you think about _that_?" Alice assumed that Sayid had been the one to cross-examine 'Henry'--especially being that he was an interrogator before the crash.

"He _is _lying about who he is." Sayid replied confidently. He was seemingly unaffected by Alice's malice as his arms crossed and leaned against the wall behind the booths. The simulated sunlight shone through the window and illuminated his dark features.

"So you determined that before or after you beat the _shit _out of him?" Alice hissed, pointing to the armory.

"Stop it." Jack interjected firmly, placing his hands on the table before glancing between the two of them. He relished the few seconds of silence that followed. Soft humming from the generator filled the air among the assembled four.

It wasn't long before Alice crossed her arms, taking a second to catch her breath as she leaned back in the faded red booth. "Let me speak to him." She announced, more composed.

"And why should we do that?" Sayid asked, raising an eyebrow and shifting his position; his cargo pants ruffled with the movement.

"Because obviously torturing him isn't working out." Alice spat, glaring at Sayid. She closed her eyes, exasperated--she knew she wasn't getting anywhere by becoming angry with them. Alice made herself calm down. "Look," She tried, knowing that it would be a mistake to let them know her true feelings on the matter. "In my time, I've come to know that women can be the best interrogators." Alice explained, adjusting her glasses. "We have a softer touch that men can't possibly pull off."

"And you would know this how?" Sayid asked in his usual suspicious tone that emerged with generally anything and everything. His hands perched on his hips.

Alice smiled, cheekily--she was utterly determined to have a few seconds alone with Henry, and if _this _didn't work, Alice knew she would have to resort to more…belligerent means. "I watch alotta HBO."

Jack chuckled, covering his mouth with his hand.

Sayid rolled his eyes with a sigh, and folded his arms across his chest, skeptically.

But it was Locke that spoke up, rubbing his shoulder. "Okay." The other two glanced at John, curiosity written into their expression. "Maybe it is a woman's touch that we need." Locke answered with a shrug. It was obvious, however, that Alice wouldn't be his first choice for the matter. "Less threatening."

Indifferent, Jack considered Locke's point. He gazed back to Sayid for a silent vote; he merely raised his eyebrows. "Alright," He decided, standing. "I'll let you in."

* * *

Alice smiled her thanks to Jack before he closed the armory door behind her, reminding her to holler when she was finished. The dim lighting in the armory was only made more sinister as the heavy metal door shut, closing her in and effectively cutting her off from the rest of the station.

Her heart skipped a beat as she turned around to face 'Henry'. He was sitting on the cot, back against the wall, with his head tilted away but his eyes met hers quickly. "Alice, right?" He inquired politely, after Alice merely stood there, staring.

She frowned, then gestured to the space beside him, silently asking to sit. Henry nodded. Crossing her arms to stop her shaking hands from exposing her weakness, Alice carefully sat on the cot as close to the door as she could manage. She cleared her throat, removing her glasses to wipe a smudge off with her shirt. "Do you know why I am here?" Alice whispered, with a side-long glance to him through pleading eyes.

Henry pondered her question, sitting up a bit straighter on the cot. "To complete the 'good cop', 'bad cop' routine?" He answered; drolly creased in his sarcastic, split lip smile that he threw at her.

Alice had wanted to laugh, but the seriousness of the moment stopped her. "Please don't mock me." Her frames slid perfectly back onto her face.

"Excuse me?"

"Its just…" Alice sighed, her eyes trailing up and down his cut and bruised face. She was bombarded with conflicting feelings now that she was alone with Henry--hate, desire, forgiveness, disgust… "I've spent so many years running and trying to get back here…" She frowned into her lap. "I don't understand why it is that I'm here _now_."

"Its sounds like you're here," Henry suggested, as Alice caught his gaze. "because your plane crashed."

She pursed her lips and repressed a chuckled. Alice rubbed her face with the palms of her hands. "Okay, Henry." She uttered, trying to keep from getting frustrated with him--she was just going to have to play his game. "You obviously know my story, so what's yours?"

"I'm from Minnesota." Henry answered simply. "My wife and I were trying to cross the pacific in a balloon." His eyes never left her. "But we went down in a storm." He then proceeded to tell Alice his account of his time on the island.

His voice was less collected than she remembered, and Alice could see that he was feigning--though to anyone on the outside, Alice could understand how Henry would appear honest and sincere.

She swallowed, trying to keep from his stare. There were so many things that Alice wanted to say to Henry, so many things that Alice wanted to sort out with him.  
Her eyes strayed to the armory door--but perhaps Henry had the right idea, perhaps the door was too thin, perhaps the time was not right for civility.

"And that's how I ended up down here." Henry finished, reaching up to massage his injured shoulder. "I'm sure you can see how well they've been treating me."

That statement struck a soft spot; she definitely hadn't supported how Sayid handled having Henry here. "Well, what do you expect?" Alice asked, after a moment, glancing at him in his silly, tattered, orange polo. "We've been here for so long…" she paused, continuing more quietly. "We need someone to blame." Her gaze met his, her glasses sliding down her nose. She opened her mouth to speak, _"I wish things had turned out differently"_, but she stopped herself. Alice tore her eyes from him to stare once more at her hands. She pushed up her frames with a finger. "I think I've heard enough, Henry." She stood.

"Ms. Liddell..."

Alice had taken a step towards the door. She closed her eyes: anticipation ran cold through her blood--she'd never told him her last name--she felt as though she had an ID badge on her chest. Alice glanced over her shoulder at him.

Henry smiled ominously at her. "The glasses are a nice touch."

His grin alerted her that he was no longer playing. "With age comes great wisdom," Alice replied, subtly returning the favor. "and significant loss of sight."  
Part of Alice knew that Henry being here, could potentially create a huge problem for her. She knew that one day her alliance would be questioned; she would be forced to chose sides. And although her decision--hypothetically--should be simple, Alice found herself at odds.

With a chuckle, Henry's fist cupped his bare shoulder. "You're not _that _old."

Alice tried to smile at him, then slowly turned on her heel, and hesitantly rapped her knuckles on the armory door. She longed to stay with Henry, but there was really nothing more she could say. "Jack!"

The locking mechanism on the door clicked before the heavy wall slid back to reveal Jack. He moved aside to let Alice by. She didn't dare look back at Henry while taking those fateful steps into the kitchen where the others had settled. It took a moment to recover from the silence of the armory--the gentle hum of the generator seemed significantly more pronounced.

"Well?" John inquired anxiously, he stood from his spot in the booth. He had waited to speak until Jack closed the door to the armory. "Did he talk to you?"

Alice walked forward to Sayid and John, listening to the soothing clicking of her shoes on the concrete floor--strangely enough, she missed the quiet spongy moss and sand of the jungle.

Jack tagged along behind her, once the armory door had been secured. "What did you find out?" He asked, arriving at a stop beside her.

Her stomach knotted as she locked eyes with each of them, carefully considering her words. Then, confidently, Alice licked her lips. "He's lying."


	7. Things I'll never say

**A.N:..****I'm in the market for a beta-I can't begin to tell you how many people I've PM'd about it-so if you are interested in the job, please, please, please drop me a PM or an email and let me know. I could sure use an extra set of eyes... I'll even let you in on the plot as an incentive... XD... other than that, I hope you enjoy! **

**Friday 19, November 2004**

"You weren't in there for very long." Sayid observed, he glanced at a clock on the wall; Alice had only been with Henry for ten minutes.

"He told me the same story he told you." Alice replied simply, scooting into the booth and resting her elbows on the hard, plastic table-top. Her eyes scanned the three men around her; they had no idea who they held prisoner in that armory, and no idea what he was capable of-but Alice did. How could she forget?

"What made you think he was lying?" Locke asked, curiously, as he squinted his eyes at her.

Alice chose her words prudently; she was treading on thin ice. "Did you happen to notice his name?" subconsciously, she wondered if she was betraying the man in the armory…although-to be fair-_he _had sent _her _away all those years ago.

"Henry Gale?" Jack offered. He reached up and ran a hand through his disheveled hair-as usual, he looked like he hadn't slept in days.

She nodded, prodding even further. "…from Minnesota…"

"I'm not following." Sayid replied, furrowing his brow. He was standing again, leaning alongside the wall connecting with the booth, his expression unreadable and austere.

Alice's heart began to race; she wanted to lie, she wanted to tell them that his story seemed truthful-but they would see right through her, and then _she _would be the one locked in a closet.  
"Toto," She started in a higher-than-normal pitch, "I don't think we're in Kansas anymore." Alice didn't wish to reveal her knowledge about Henry just yet, but the suggestion for the Oceanic survivors to not trust him was within her sights. Alice was not going to let another massacre unfold before her eyes-not if she could help it this time.

John glanced to Sayid and Jack, the creases in his forehead growing. "Now, you've lost _me_."

With a sigh, Alice refrained from rolling her eyes. "Dorothy _Gale's_ uncle was named Henry." She explained, as if it was obvious. "_Henry _Gale."

"But he wasn't from Minnesota." John corrected with a shake of his head and a small hand gesture.

"No…" Alice agreed, "But the Wizard was." She shrugged, her gaze shifting between the three of them. "Think about it; the Wizard used a hot air balloon to fly to and from Oz."

Sayid frowned, catching on to what Alice was inferring. "You think that he is using a pseudonym?"

"I'm sure of it."

Jack shook his head, "Then why would he say his wife's name was Jennifer?" He asked, skeptically, "Wasn't Dorothy's aunt named Emily?"

Alice thought it over. "I dunno," she replied, frankly. "Maybe he thought Jennifer would be less obvious."

"I think you might be blowing this way out of proportion." Jack folded his arms across his chest. It didn't make sense for someone to use a pre-made, fictional identity and not be consistent with the information.

"You may be on to something, Alice" Sayid countered, taking a seat across from her. "But I must agree with Jack," He caught Alice's gaze. "Your accusations are curious, if not far-fetched.

John chewed on the inside of his cheek, "Perhaps we shouldn't jump to too many conclusions just yet."

She wanted to bang her head against the table. "This coming from the men that locked him up in a gun safe."

With a stifled, understanding laugh, Jack turned and sauntered slowly over to the sink; He began to tend to the dishes. "We just need more time." The soothing clinking of the porcelain dishware breached the silent air.

Alice scratched the back of her neck. "People are going to get curious, you know?" She told him. "What are you going to tell them?"

"The truth." Jack answered over the running water. He glanced up as Locke stepped away, gathering several dishes that were stacked out of Jack's reach.

Shrugging objectively, Alice let her eyes find their way back to Sayid. She did not sanction the way that he had dealt with Henry, but knowing that Sayid did not trust him meant that it was unlikely Henry would be freely running around camp anytime soon-thus, Henry would not be able to demonstrate the width of his power.

Sayid leaned on the table, towards her, catching Alice's attention. "What did he say that persuaded you to believe he was being dishonest?" Sayid asked her quietly, his middle-eastern accent strong within his words.

"If he had been here as long as he claimed," Alice explained, whispering, "Why had he not searched us out?" She pondered aloud, "Our plane would have made enough ruckus for anyone across the island to hear." Alice picked at her fingernails, breaking Sayid's gaze. "I guess," Alice started, "It wasn't what he said, per-say, but the way he said it." She worried her bottom lip. "He's very good, though." Alice found her eyes tracing over to Jack and Locke. "I found myself wanting to believe him."

Sayid frowned at her. "You are a biologist," He whispered, disdainfully. "What would you know about lying?"  
Alice gradually trailed back to his eyes. She had given him just the reaction he'd baited for; and although Sayid could appreciate the malevolence hidden deep behind her irises, he recognized that Alice was among those in the survivors that cradled their past close to their heart… but would it prove to be harmless, or fateful?

* * *

**Sunday, 19 November 1989**  
4:56pm

"So, let me get this straight," Zoey began, hiking the white bunny further into her arms as she tried to keep up with Ben in the ankle deep sand. They were walking together on the beach-just the two of them-not far from the Others' campsite. "Dharma's been lying to us all along?"

Ben nodded, "Uh-huh." He was a step ahead of her, hands stuffed in his pockets, his eyes focused on the watery horizon.

"And the hostiles are really the good guys." She continued, trying to wrap her mind around the last few hours had been difficult. She was appreciative that Ben had been so patient with her.

Suddenly though, Ben stopped walking and turned to her: Zoey stopped short of running into him. "I'm not going to hold it against you if you'd like to pretend this never happened."

Zoey smiled at him; It was too bad she knew him better than that-he _would _hold it against her-but it was a nice thought. She gently stroked the bunny's ears, having no clear intention of turning back now. "I just want to know one thing," She told him, "Who is Jacob?" Zoey inquired.

A mix of relief and disorientation flashed across his eyes. He shifted in the thick sand, reaching out to pat the rabbit that had curled up in Zoey's arms. The white fur was soft, and oddly comforting. "I guess you could say he's our leader." Jacob was much more than just a leader, but Ben knew that the time was not right for a full explanation.

Frowning, she glanced back at the camp; seemingly so small and weak against the Dharma Initiative. "I thought that guy that-was it Richard?-mentioned was the leader." She squinted her eyes against the direct sunlight that shone on them from the western most side of the island.

"_Charles_?" Ben offered with a scowl. "Heavens no." He shook his head, taking a deep breath. "He's just a temporary charge." Bitter resentment lined his words as he averted his gaze to the foam settling atop the warm ocean.

"Oh." Zoey replied tentatively, not really understanding. It felt like Ben was starting to beat around the bush with whoever this Jacob was. But she really didn't really blame him, there were probably things that Zoey shouldn't know of to begin with, anyway: like the apparent bygones between this Charles and Benjamin. With time, Zoey knew, Ben would come to fill in the gaps of information that he was leaving her with-hopefully.

Zoey swallowed, staring down at her feet sinking in the sand. She thought about how when Richard and Ben had finished talking privately, they had came back to the circle of Hostiles that had gathered around the campfire-some protested and questioned her belonging with them. Richard had settled all conversation by announcing something that would always haunt her.  
Zoey caught Ben's gaze and nervously licked her lips. "What did Richard mean, when he said that it was Jacob's wish that I was here?" She had been under the distinct impression that Ben had brought her here on his own free will, not under someone else's command. It stung a little.

Sucking in a breath of air, Ben offered her a half-smile as he prepared to spin a web of lies that would change both of their lives forever-a lie that only Richard would ever know the truth of. "You are on, what Jacob calls, his 'list'."

* * *

**Sunday 21, November 2004**

_"Well, now that we have seen each other," said the Unicorn, "if you'll believe in me, I'll believe in you. Is that a bargain?"_

Alice ran her fingers over the passage. She sat, comfortably on one of the couches in the Swan Station, casually reading her book. Jack, Sayid and Locke had agreed to let her stay in the station with them for a while. Not only was it convenient for her to aid them in shifts for pushing the 'button', but also allowed her to keep an eye on Henry-just incase he tried something rash or offered incriminating tips against her.

The door to the Armory was left open as Jack walked Henry out of the enclosure. Alice glanced up, curiously watching. Henry warily peered around the corner from the kitchen, ignoring her stare, and gestured to the computer in the next room. "What's the computer for?"

"Nothing." Jack answered quickly, ushering Henry over to the kitchen area.

Locke passed Jack a peculiar look; obviously they hadn't discussed having Henry out of the armory. Alice disregarded the tension between them-for days the two had been acting like teenage girls.

Henry's gaze fell on the kitchen table where Locke was, then upon the box of Dharma issue breakfast cereal. "Cereal?" Henry commented excitedly, his eyes going wide. "_Wow_, where'd you guys get cereal?" He scooted into the booth across from John.

"It was down here all along." Locke replied, passing the box to him. "The pantry's full of food."

Tilting the box near his face, Henry peered inside. Then, raising an inquiring eyebrow, he glanced back up to Locke. "How old is it?" His stare went to Jack. When neither answered, he flicked his eyes behind Jack to lock with Alice's. She merely shrugged at him, bringing her attention back to her book. "You guys don't know much, huh?" Henry asked, reaching into the box to test a cheerio. "I mean," he started, chewing, "I'd be asking all kinds of questions about all this stuff down here. You guys don't even seem that curious."

"Maybe it's more about survival than curiosity." Alice answered, turning a page of her book.

Henry adjusted in the bench to her. "She speaks." He quipped; for this was the first time she had spoken to him, since last accusing him of lying.

Jack, his hands resting on his hips, smiled as he glanced back at her: tracing his eyes over her, nonchalantly. "On occasion." He answered, truthfully. Jack had barely gotten to know Alice, simply because of the fact that she hardly spoke to anyone-and if she did, it definitely wasn't about her past.

"Hardy-har-har." Alice sarcastically replied, looking up as Jack sauntered into the computer room.

Henry proceeded to pour himself a bowl of cheerios as the room grew increasing quieter. Alice had gone back to her book, and Locke-in addition to eating-had begun browsing through a magazine he'd earlier plucked from one of the many bookshelves. Henry cleared his throat. "Do you like riddles, John?"

Locke sighed, taking a bite of his own bowl of cereal. "If you mean, like; What did the pink panther say when he stepped on an ant, then yes." He chuckled, a mouth full of cheerios.

Grinning, Henry bobbed his head, "_Dead ant, dead ant, dead ant, dead ant, dead ant…_" Henry answered to the universal jingle of 'The Pink Panther'.

The two shared a laugh, and for a moment, Alice was glad for the break in hostility between everyone down there in the hatch. That is, until Henry opened his mouth again.

"How about: 'Why is a raven like a writing desk?'"

Alice froze; like a deer caught in the wonderment of headlights. She couldn't believe he went so far...

As Locke finished recovering from his laugh, he scooped another spoonful of cereal into his mouth. "Don't think I know that one." Locke replied, casually. He hoped it would be funny; he liked funny jokes.

Henry intentionally glanced to Alice across the room. He watched as she casually stuffed the book she was reading into the cushion of the couch and stiffly crossed her arms.

A long minute of silence passed. Alice closed her eyes; Henry had asked that question specifically for her-she knew it. Knowing who Henry really was, the riddle could be a veiled query as to whether or not Alice was going to be loyal to him or not. Then again, perhaps he merely teasing her. Either way, it had Alice squirming in her chair-probably exactly what Henry was looking to do.

Finally sighing, Alice crossed her arms. It was just a bloody riddle, what harm could possibly be done by answering him? "Because," Alice started, loudly enough for them to hear. Both of the men turned to look at her. Locke with a curious air within his eyes, and Ben with an amused smirk creasing his lips. "there is a 'B' in both," Alice explained, "and an 'N' in neither."

Locke opened his mouth to question Alice, but Henry spoke up. "Very _good_." He praised with a mischievous smile.

Blinking, John glanced between the two as he swallowed what cereal was in his mouth before laying down the spoon in hand. "I don't get it…"

Alice stood, using her hands on the arms of the chair to aid her. "There isn't an solution to it." She told John, shrugging before slowly ambling over to them. Alice took the cereal box and plucked a few cheerios out. "It was never meant to have a solution."

John started to comment on how odd it was for a writer to not come up with an answer to a riddle-but Henry interrupted, staring intently at Alice.

"I'm not surprised that you knew that," Henry said, waiting for Alice to give him her full attention-and when she turned her head, matching his gaze, only then did he continue. "considering the sense of humor your parents had when naming you." The hint of a wicked smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

The tone in Henry's voice frightened Alice-it was the kind of tone that someone would take just before revealing someone's deep, dark secret. Though aware that there was little she could do to recover if he exposed her, Alice narrowed her eyes, daring him to do so.

"Tell me," Henry began again, "Did your parents often read Dodgson's book to you when you were a child?"

Locke flicked his eyes between the two, noting the rising tension in the air. John didn't quite understand what was happening between Alice and Henry-and he definitely didn't like being excluded.  
Locke straightened in his seat, two seconds away from questioning the uneasy silence; but at that very moment Jack emerged from the computer room.

"How's that cereal?" Jack asked.

Letting herself breath a sigh of relief, Alice placed the white cheerio box back on the table. She let her eyes trail to Jack, who had taken stance beside her. She guessed that since they were trying to hide the 'button' from Henry, Jack had disappeared to prematurely reset the alarm in the computer room.

"Not bad," Henry answered, easily. "considering it's undetermined age." He stared down into the bowl in front of him. He shrugged. "I guess I've earned it though," Henry plucked out a few cheerios with his fingers, then casually placed them between his lips. "I mean, on account of my good behavior and all." Chewing loudly, his gaze flicked between the three and after a moment, he continued. "Especially after drawing that map for Ana."

"What map?" Locke asked, sitting a little straighter, a crease steadily growing on his brow.  
"To my balloon."

Jack turned to Locke, mistrust written across his face. "Did you-"

"No." He answered defensively, before joining Jack's gaze to Alice.

Alice scoffed. "I had no idea." She told them, raising her hands, palm out.

Henry perked up-apparently Ana hadn't shared that piece of information with the rest of the crew-smirking, he repressed a giggle. "Wow, you guys have some real trust issues, don't you?"

"Guess it makes sense she didn't tell you." Henry shrugged, "I mean, with the two of you fighting all the time." He didn't hold back a roll of his eyes. "Of course, if I was one of them-these people that you seem to think are your enemies-what would I do?" Pondering, Henry took another bite of his cereal. "Well, there'd be no balloon, so I'd draw a map to a real secluded place like a cave or some underbrush-good place for a trap-an ambush." He confessed, "And when your friends got there a bunch of my people would be waiting for them. Then they'd use them to trade for me." Henry paused for a long moment, then sighed, "I guess it's a good thing I'm not one of them, huh?" Looking between each of the three blank faced that stared at him, Henry smiled, obliviously. "You guys got any milk?"

Alice didn't wait for anyone to speak, her gaze went immediately to Jack. She could almost see the shades of red flushing through his cheeks.

Then after a long moment of reflection, Jack spoke, harshly. "Draw it again-" He demanded, sprinting to the table behind them and grabbing a piece of paper and a pen, Jack slammed it down in front of Henry. "The map to your balloon."

Henry nervously laughed, knowing he'd made a mistake. "I was joking." He nearly pleaded, "I was making a joke. There's nothing out there besides my balloon-I was just frustrated." His voice was starting to crack, his eyes darted between the three. "It was a stupid thing to say." Henry admitted, "I'm sorry."

Before Jack could reprimand, or Henry could apologize more, John butted in. "Its too late anyway." He stated, trying to neutralize the situation. "She's already long gone, Jack."

But Locke's comment wasn't enough to calm Jack down. "So what's done is done?"

Composed, John replied, "That's right." He kept Jack's intense gaze and immediately, the tension in the room rose, making Alice and Henry especially uncomfortable.

Jack finally broke the gaze, roughly pulling his backpack on his shoulders. "Put him back in the armory." He told Locke, before rushing for the airlock. He was going to try and get to the beach as soon as possible-perhaps someone there knew the status on how long Ana had been gone.

Alice gave Henry one last frown-what was he up to?-and then sprinted after Jack. "Wait, Jack!" She called, "I'm coming with you!"


	8. Contemplation and Confusion

**A.N: First off, I want to send out a sincere 'thank you' to the several people (Spotpc, Iceclaw14 and Bad Wolf 42) that looked over this chapter and gave me honest feedback. I appreciate the hard work you put in. I couldn't have done it without you!^.^  
Second, I was asked how old Zoey was in relation to Ben… and if my calculations are right, she is five years his junior. Sorry if I totally didn't make that clear. : )**  
**And Finally, a Warning to Latin speakers: I've butchered the shit out of it all…I know my Latin is less than desirable, and if I was to have a conversation with an Other-I would TOTALLY be shot. So, in other words: no need to remind me. Haha. Enjoy!**

**Sunday 17, December 1989**

"Quisnamn es vos?"

Zoey thought for a long moment, struggling over the words both mentally and physically. "Uh… Meus nomen Zoey…" She shifted on the bed, feeling a slight flush rise in her cheeks from her own self-humiliation. "q-q-qood-"

"-quod." Ben corrected, prodding her to continue. They had been going back and forth like this for hours. Latin was something that Zoey unquestionably _needed _to know.

"quod EGO sum," Zoey went on, her fingers mindlessly tracing over the white bunny in her lap. "a amica of de Benjamin Linus."

Ben watched her face light up as she finished the last of her sentence and he couldn't stop his own smile from appearing. It was one of the things he loved about spending his Sundays, Wednesdays and Friday nights with her; she was so excited to be in on this secret society.

Naturally, they were practicing at Zoey's place. Since her roommate had rotating shifts with her at the Hydra station, Zoey got the house all to herself for weeks at a time. It was the ideal spot to confer about the 'Hostile' happenings while the two were inside the barracks.

Ben leaned back, supporting himself on his hands. His eyes followed Zoey's gentle stroking of the sleeping rabbit's fur. He was but a foot from her on the bed, content and yet so very exhausted.  
His watch weighing heavy on his wrist, Ben lifted his hand to peer at the time-it was far past when they usually parted ways for the night. Honestly though, Ben didn't _feel _like leaving Zoey. He definitely didn't feel like dealing with his father back home either.

"Time for you to leave?" Zoey asked quietly, a slight disappointment lining her words. She knew, when Ben's concentration turned to the watch on his wrist, that it was no use trying to get him to stay longer. But despite her disgruntlement towards the situation, Zoey _did _have go to work in the morning…

With a weighty sigh, Ben allowed his eyes to trace upwards, resting on Zoey's tired face. He nodded to her in reply before stretching his arms behind him, yawning as he sat up. "You really need to be studying this." His finger tapped on the folder of translations lying in front of his knees.

She crossed her arms, defensively; like a five-year-old accused sneaking a cookie before dinner. "I have been!"

His scrutinizing gaze lingered a bit longer than usual.

But Zoey held hers, as well.

"Say what you will." Ben announced finally, sliding off of her bed and slowly rising to his feet. Over the last few weeks, Zoey had grown more confident around him, and though she never beat him at his game of wits, Ben considered it nice to have a worthy adversary.

Zoey hiked the floppy animal into her arms and passed him off to Ben before she closed the white binders that had laid open between them. "It would be a lot easier if I could take these-" she stacked the folders nicely, and then proceeded to stuff them underneath her bed. "-with me to work." It was a pleasant thought, actually _having _leisure time over on Hydra Island, but rather unrealistic.  
Her eyes found Benjamin, who had gone to stand in the doorframe, bunny in arms. He was watching her intently through his thin framed, circular glasses that she so loved to tease him about. She wished she could take _him _with her.

Since the hike over a month ago, their intimate moments-if you could call them that-consisted of little more than a stolen caress here, some flowers there, perhaps even a fleeting kiss behind closed doors… granted Ben seemed more of an old-fashioned kind of suitor, and Zoey had enjoyed the fact that he was taking things between them slow, but… at the same time, she wished he would just break-much like he did on the hike-and take her where she stood.

What a silly notion. It was hard to imagine Ben doing such a thing. Zoey pushed the subject from her mind and stood from the bed. She genuinely like Benjamin: and if that meant waiting, then, by-golly she would wait.  
"Come on," Zoey said finally, "I'll show you out."

**Sunday 21, November 2004**

"Jack!" Alice called, hurrying through the underbrush to catch up with him. "Wait _up_!"

The moment after he had ordered for Henry to go back in the Armory, Jack had hauled off into the woods, headed for the beach: determined to get his answers.  
If there was one thing that Alice had learned about Jack Shephard, it was that once he set himself an objective, there was virtually no distracting him from said target. His persistence was something Alice both admired and feared.  
"Jack!" She shouted once again, pushing aside hanging foliage on the barely visible trail. Alice caught glimpses of Jack's figure within the trees-torn brown tee-shirt, matching backpack and darkened khakis-pushing hard through the jungle; undoubtedly irritated at what had just happened back at the hatch.  
This was one of those times where Alice could appreciate being stuck on this island for these long months; she hadn't been this good of shape since she was in her early twenties. And although it still took her a while to catch up to the doctor, she did so with only having to pant and not flat out having a heart attack.

When Alice got close enough, Jack suddenly stopped and turned to face her, his arms hanging down by his sides.

Alice stumbled backwards to avoid crashing into him.

Jack stared at her like he'd just comprised an epiphany. "Can I ask you something?" His hand rested above his hip as he collected his breath and bearings. He sounded impatient, and didn't give her time to stutter out a reply. "Why've you stayed at the hatch?"

She squinted at him, her chest heaving. "_What_?" Alice shook her head, trying to comprehend his sudden hostility towards her.

"You," Jack started, taking a deep breath and gesturing at her with his free hand. "haven't shown any interest in the hatch since before Henry arrived-"

"-Whoa," Alice interrupted, knowing exactly where Jack was headed. "If you're insinuating that I've had anything to do with Henrys map-"

"-did you?" Jack prodded a little more roughly than he intended.

"Take a chill pill, Jack." Alice replied, calmly with a shake of her head, "I had no idea that was going on." It was the truth. Alice was too far out of the loop to even be considered for such compliments of knowledge, even if she had wanted to know. Finding out about Henry being held prisoner was by chance, not by way of the 'food chain'. There wasn't even the minute possibility of Ana-Lucia coming to Alice about this 'map'- Alice couldn't track, she wasn't a great carpenter, nor did she openly engage in social activities like the others. She was virtually invisible; a nobody. Alice frowned, she hated to admit it, but she was indeed starting to feel like a red-shirt from an old Star Trek re-run.

Perhaps it was something in her face or the way she'd said it that made Jack believe her. His expression softened and his eyes averted to the ground. He exhaled through his nose, his eyes flicking back to hers. "I'm sorry." he admitted after a long moment, reaching up to rub the bridge between his eyes. "I _guess _I'm just a little stressed."

A little smile touched her lips. Jack was definitely the most worked person on this island. It didn't surprise her one bit that he was worn out. "It seems to be going around." She took a step forward and patted Jack's arm. "Come on, lets get to camp and see if Ana's already left…" Then, without waiting for him to acknowledge her, Alice continued on the path back to the beach, relived that their confrontation was over.

"Alice,"

Her feet stopped, the warm air around her gathering with the stillness; it was always hotter on the island when you weren't moving. Alice glanced behind her, "Yeah, Jack?"

He didn't make a move towards her. "I think that's the second time you've avoided answering something I've asked you." Jack attempted to sound playful, but the words came out on the suspicious side.

Exhaling a long sigh, Alice pushed her glasses up on her face and turned to face him, her stomach quivering. Though she'd gained her breath from the run to catch up with Jack, sweat had slowly beaded on her skin, causing her clothes to stick to her like flypaper. Alice quickly adjusted herself. "What do you want to know?" Jack, like everyone else, had never tried to explore her reasoning's behind her actions-not like she'd have shared much of it-but it still gave her a little anxiety over the mere idea of someone finding out the truth about her.

Jack sauntered forward, "How come you've been with us in the hatch as long as you have? Is there something going on, a conflict with one of the others…" He trailed off.

Alice chuckled, gesturing for them to continue towards the beach as they talked. She was confident that he'd believe the explanation she was going to tell him; it was just a question of how long she'd be able to fool them. "Not really, I just don't like over-complicating my life." Trying not to reflect too much on that remark, Alice continued. "But honestly, Jack," she explained, stepping over a large root that stretched from once side the of the small trail to the other. She was glad that she'd gotten Jack to stop running, because when she had gotten to said root, Alice would have surely tripped over it. "Since Sawyer and Jin came back, since the raft turned out to be a washout-no pun intended-" Over her shoulder, she took note that Jack kept his eyes on the forest floor, weary of protruding roots. "There's been nothing to do on this island." Alice paused for a while, navigating her way through the jungle. "It was just a matter of time before I needed a change of scenery."

Jack absorbed everything she said in a silent understanding, watching her with impatient eyes. Her words were sincere and though they were lined with a bit of secrecy, Jack could relate with her wish to keep her personal thoughts and past private. Perhaps he wished he would have gotten to know her better.

* * *

The end of the trail appeared sooner than either Jack or Alice had expected. They broke through the thick forest into the clearing of home-made huts and the peaceful rustle and bustle of the survivors. It was amazing how quiet forty-some people could be when they're focused on subsisting.

While they were greeted with warm welcomes and friendly smiles, Jack weaved his way through the camp, Alice following close behind. The sand was much harder to walk in and the air sweltered, but the cool breeze and beautiful view made living here-verses the caves-worthwhile.

Jack spotted Hurley working on a shelter, and sauntered over. "Hurley," He called, "you seen Ana-Lucia?"

"She took off into the jungle with Charlie and Sayid yesterday." Hurley answered kindly, pinning up a portion of a tarp that served as a make-shift wall.

"Yesterday," Jack pondered, glancing back to Alice, who had stopped beside him.

"Did they say where they were going?" Alice asked. She'd met Ana briefly when Jin and Sawyer led the survivors-from the tail end of the plane-back to camp. She was also the one who accidentally shot another survivor named Shannon: causing copious amounts of tension between her and the rest of the survivors. Albeit, Alice was convinced that Ana could very well take care of herself, no matter what 'Henry' had waiting out in the woods for them-if anything at all…

Hurley shrugged his massive shoulders, and directed his attention to the hut. "Well," He started, a little agitated, a little exasperated. "that would, like, assume that anyone actually tells me anything." He paused momentarily. "Maybe if I were in the loop, I could be more helpful."

Alice gave Jack meaningful look. 'See,' her face told him, 'there's a definite pecking order around here. And Hugo's in the same boat I am.' Unfortunately, Alice was not _only _held out of the survivors loop, but Henry's as well.

"There's no loop, Hurley." Jack replied with a sarcastic chuckle, the answer was directed at Hugo, but Jack paid Alice a glance as well.

Before either Hurley or Alice could retort, Claire pattered up to them, with Aaron in her arms. She asked if Jack would be willing to check Aaron out-apparently he had a fever.

Jack-like the good doctor he was-wandered off with her.; assuring Claire that Aaron was probably fine.

"Loop, dude, loop!" Hugo called after him.

Alice ambled up to Hugo, gently squeezing his shoulder, "Welcome to the club." She told him once Jack was out of earshot.

**Monday 25, December 1989**

Zoey peered at the file on her desk, her hand shakily scooping a spoonful of green gelatin into her mouth while she read. She then leaned back in her roller-chair, pulling at the file with the tips of her fingers to better look at it. The papers that were tacked to the top of the brown folder with prongs described the current situation of the tagged, migrating fish/mammals-unfortunately, they were not making any progress in escaping the magnetic field that the island seemed to radiate, and yet, surprisingly the net population ceased to grow or diminish.  
It was a question that had been plaguing the scientists here-It was also one of Zoey's responsibilities to figure out why this was happening around the island.

Zoey inhaled deeply, resting her head back against the headrest. She closed her eyes and reached up to rub them. Having been at the Hydra station for a little over a week-with shifts ranging from 12 to 18 hours a day, Zoey was very worn out; mentally and physically.  
At least she was allowed to partly work in her dorm, where Zoey was away from the hurried routine of the laboratories. In her little dorm, there wasn't much more than a metal bunk-bed built into the wall and two desks-It was a bit claustrophobic; especially when she was set up with a roommate. But when she wanted to work in a quiet, isolated area, her dorm room brought about a perfect place to be.

_*Thud, Thud*_

Her hand came down from her face just before a white coated co-worked peered in through the heavy metal door he'd just knocked upon. Zoey immediately recognized the athletically built and dark skinned associate. "Hey, Marcus." Zoey greeted to the smiling face. "What can I do you for?"

"Hope I'm not interrupting your lunch," He politely started, continuing when Zoey gestured skeptically to her lone container of Dharma issue Jell-O. "But, Nolan-" One of the polar bears under surveillance. "-figured out how to retrieve the fish biscuits." Marcus leaned against the doorframe, holding the door steady with the knob. "We were given orders to transfer him to the mainland. Thought you'd want a hand in it?"

"Absolutely." She answered, hopping up from her chair. Any opportunity to take a break from the report on her desk was vastly refreshing. Zoey snatched her own white lab coat from a hanger on the wall before eagerly following Marcus out of her dorm room and down the thick cement hallway.

Yellow light from the fixtures above them flickered, casting dark shadows on the silver walls. There were no markings down in the bottom half of the laboratory to tell you where to go-albeit the occasional 'exit' sign-and memorizing each twist and turn had taken Zoey the better half of the year. But now, as Zoey and her co-worker strode briskly side-by-side there was no hesitating when they came to any one of the many intersecting corridors.

Marcus pocketed his hands as they ambled through the maze of the underwater laboratory. "So, I heard that you're dating someone." He started casually, stealing a glance towards her as they turned a corner.

The question caught Zoey off-guard. "You believe everything you hear?"

Chuckling, he shrugged, "I guess not." Marcus answered, "I figured that the boys' were kidding around when they said you were seeing Workman Ben." He laughed, fiddling with something in his pockets. But when he looked to Zoey-when he caught the uncertainty in her eyes-his demeanor shattered. "Oh dear," Marcus muttered, realizing his mistake. "You're not-?"

Zoey tried to smile at him, but the idea of her co-workers discussing her personal life was disconcerting, especially when they didn't approve of her choice of partner. "Sorry to disappoint you."

It was one of those foot-in-mouth moments for Marcus. "Oh Jesus, you know that's not what I meant." He told her seriously, "It's none of my business who you date."

They stepped into the main elevator, the heavy doors closing loudly behind them. "Then why bring it up, Marcus?" She asked, trying to not be too abrasive, but her lack of patience showed through in her words.

Marcus licked his lips, avoiding looking at her; he knew he was treading on sensitive ground. Reaching forward, he pushed the 'ground-level' button on the metal panel. "I just wanted to make sure you're taking precautions, that's all."

"Excuse me?" The floor jerked, the gears grinding as the elevator moved slowly upwards.

"Tell me you read that staff memo everyone was sent a few weeks ago."

Furrowing her eyebrows, she tried to reason what staff memos had to do with her personal life…

"The one about budge cuts?" Marcus prodded gently, but when she gave him nothing more than a puzzled stare, he continued, exasperated. Zoey _never _read the memos. "Hanso cut our funding." He explained, "So, Dharma's cracking down on the rules." He crossed his arms, "They also changed their policy on pregnancies."

Zoey flicked her eyes to him; obviously this was a memo she should have read. In the contracts everyone had signed upon receiving their job on the island, one of the measures that was taken if you got pregnant was that you'd be sent home during the first trimester with compensation pay. Once you had your kid, you could come back to work on the island. This rule was strictly enforced; it was rumored that pregnant women caught a virus early on and normally didn't make it-or something like that… Zoey didn't really know.

Marcus could almost see her thoughts glide in front of her eyes. He frowned, "_Now _if you get pregnant, they'll fire you." He told her. "No pay and no opportunity to get your job back because it now violates the new contract."

Well that sucks. Zoey chewed on her lip; she didn't want to lose her job, but it wasn't like Ben was 'putting out' anyway. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could get anything to come out, Marcus interrupted her.

"I like working with you, Zoey," Marcus confessed, turning to face her. "I don't want to see you leave just because of a slip up, you know?" His eyes connected with hers; they'd worked together for months, and he meant every word of his concern.

A part of her was irritated that he would bring up the subject, but another part of her was grateful he cared enough about her to say something. It definitely lightened her mood.  
The doors of the elevator slid open, revealing a neatly painted white hallway. Marcus extended his arm, gesturing for her to go first. Zoey took the opportunity to walk out of the elevator backwards and address him. "Well, I'm flattered your making sure I'm using condoms," she smiled, pocketing her hands. "But for the record," Zoey explained jokingly, "And you're welcome to tell the boys' this," she winked, "I'm not getting any."

Marcus grinned, following her. "Well, as long as it's for the record," He laughed heartedly. "Neither am I."

**Sunday 21, November 2004**

It didn't make sense why Henry would give Ana-Lucia directions to this balloon, unless there was something out there, lurking in the shadows. But clearly, Henry knew that Alice would be here at camp, so wouldn't it make _more _sense to give Alice the directions and have the 'Others' meet her at that designated spot? That way, he wouldn't have to compromise her position? Or his for that matter… Obviously Henry had the kind of authority to carry out such a thing…

Perhaps Henry questioned her loyalties? Alice snorted-damn straight he should question them: After all these years, why _should _she try and pick up where they left off? After what he'd done, Alice should have no reason to forgive him.

Alice removed the frames from her face and rubbed her eyes. If she wasn't loyal to Henry, then why hadn't she exposed him? Why hadn't she cleared the table with Jack and the rest of the survivors?

Whose side was she even on?

She was beginning to wonder where the line was drawn-where the gray area that she was hovering over drew its limits, when a tender voice broke her train of thought.

"What are you looking for, dear?"

Alice had been ruffling through the shelves of white containers of food in the makeshift kitchen to try and settle her brain- and that queasy stomach of hers. She replaced her glasses and glanced towards the sugary sweet voice that'd spoken.

Rose-a short, round, black woman who'd never had an unkind thought about anyone-was standing close, a smiled on her aged face.

It took Alice a second to gather herself. She eyed the identical, white labels on all the neatly stacked containers of food. "Saltines?" Alice answered, her eyebrows furrowing.

Stepping forward, Rose reached up and plucked a box from one of the lower shelves. She popped open the cardboard and slid out an already opened-but twisted shut-plastic package of crackers.

As Alice accepted them, she forced out a chuckle. "All these white labels look alike to me."

Rose nodded in agreement before turning and peeling a banana away from it's bunch. "I haven't seen you around in a while, Miss Alice."

Fishing out a cracker, Alice quickly popped it into her mouth-it was definitely stale. She leaned back against the kitchens' island before answering. "I've been with Jack." She watched Rose peel the banana and then slice it on the island beside her.

"In the hatch?" Rose asked, stealing a glance. But Alice just nodded, crunching loudly on another cracker, so Rose continued, "That place gives me the creeps." She shrugged, "I doubt we're meant to be down there."

"You're not even remotely curious about it?" Alice inquired, before fingering for another cracker in the crinkly plastic. She remembered Rose helping out Hugo with the management of food in the Hatch shortly after it was 'discovered'. Evidently Rose didn't spend any more time in there than necessary.

Rose pursed her lips and shook her head. "Nope." She answered, "I'm just as happy without it." She scooped the sliced bananas into a coconut bowl.

The crackers were starting to ease Alice's stomach-she was pleased about that. Alice smiled at Rose; Ignorance may be bliss for Rose, but for Alice, ignorance was giving her an ulcer.

"You have a good day now, Alice." Rose told her, waving goodbye after she started down the beach towards her husband-who looked as though he'd just come back from fishing.

Setting the plastic crackers aside, Alice skimmed the beach with her eyes. The first few weeks that she had been here, Alice had been almost eager to find Ben, eager to get back to the meager existence she'd known so long ago. But the longer she was stranded here, away from her restless life in Australia, the more Alice actually _enjoyed _her time with the survivors.  
There were even the days when Alice wished she could be a bigger part of the picture. With a heavy heart Alice had watched the survivors start over-start new lives here in the island. Sometimes, there was nothing more in the world that she wished than to just be like one of them; to have a chance at redemption…

A knot formed in her throat. Worrying her lower lip, Alice pushed herself off the kitchen's island and made her way through the dusty sand to the edge of the ocean. The sun-hours from setting-still beat hard against her. The heat made her weary and she couldn't remember the last time she'd napped.  
Alice kicked off her shoes before dropping to the damp sand, welcoming the cool water on her feet after she slid off her socks. The tide was steadily going out-Alice noted to herself as her head touched the soft ground-so she wouldn't be in any danger, laying here. She closed her eyes just for a moment, feeling rather fond of her self-appointed alone time. Alice would lie here, she decided, just a few minutes-gather her thoughts and such-then head back to the hatch later tonight.

It was dark before someone woke her.


End file.
